[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/b3RmLjg4LmI4ODExNC5WRzlpYVdGeklBLCwuMA,,/ranyeski.regular.png[/img][/center] Darkness deepness. Leaves rustle. Heartbeats throb wearily on the water-face. Weathered rock path, perfectly pictured. Born, heroes play and conquer speaking, listening, stepping. Everywhere the sound of water, pure and clean spills forth and lead with motherly concern, guiding one through a watery world. Lie down now. Solitude comfort, sitting and understanding in a cool evening of bliss, yellow leaves fall like paper gold, hollow oak, sleeping. Up up! Ancient gardens flow no longer with water, but with deep roots of oak trees, no longer mothered, but must lead small ones, uncertain paths of the gray world. Falling for life, sliding down glinting obsidian. Lost in a world of green, asleep in a jungle of dangers. I stir, feeling lost. Speak to the trees: — [i]Why am I here?[/i] A voice sounded, low and dreary, but warm and comforting — [i]Because you were happy here. Walk again.[/i] The jungle leaves flutter, leaves dance their soft rustle around my ears. The green parts slightly, and walking up the rocky road I am again feeling a sense of mysterious belonging, yet tinged so slightly with sadness. The voice too was familiar, and my mind clearer. But thoughts didn't stay, not for long enough to keep together. The jungle murmured. This path! A slight incline, a narrow V of rock in the hillside — not a road but a path I've taken I'm sure — the weathered rocks, the smooth slate, the clear blue of the sky bringing out all the sharp edged colors. The feeling of knowing this place is as strong as the place itself, it must be significant to me, must be important. What is at the top, when did I climb? I should be climbing now but I'm not. Who was that voice from before? The warm basso rippled under me: — [i]Join me here, in the courtyard.[/i] The rocky path is now gone, replaced by a glorious expanse of clean cut grass and meadow flowers rustling gently in the breeze, inviting me to imagine, to play, to lose myself. Someone watches over me from the side, a bright figure I couldn't make out, but their presence doesn't frighten me. I was watched, cared for, enabled. As before, I felt so truly at home here it came with a bitterness, like an old drawing showing that catches only the glimpse of the true memory. My eyes hurt. It is all here, complete. The park is perfect and pristine. A massive bastion swathing me in familiarity so much so that I could hide behind a grin. A feeling builds inside, a pressure in my chest and eyes, a fountain of pressure fights to get out. The tears well up and out onto my cheeks. I feel confusion by my reaction, but the grief overrides it and me, and I give myself to the intense emotion. The sense of loss is acute, like having my insides turned out by a blade. I was falling, falling into myself, and the feeling of falling came with a blueness, a rocking feeling like comfort. I was afloat, I was on a blue stretch of water, my tears as nothing against the sublime reflection of the sun on the water's flowing surface, trickling music. — [i]What is going on, who brought me here?[/i] I ask the voice. The emotions in me quiet themselves, steeling against the possible reaction. Looking around I see the shore and the port. I am on a body of water, a water I have dreamt of often. — [i]I think you know, if you want to.[/i] Dreamt. Dreamt of often. Was I? Am I dreaming? Jungle, lovely, dark and deep? Stole o'er the stillness the heartbeats of sleep? The speaker of the soothing voice, must be the figure of light, watching over and directing. Why am I being guided in my own dream? My eyes narrow a piercing gaze at the shifting figure now opposite me in a boat. Trying to see through the dazzling mirrors that seemed to obscure my sight. The boat wobbles, a tremor. My reflection looks concernedly up at me from the water. — [i]You must be ready if you want to know, want to go. Float here awhile instead. Be happy in the gentle waves of the sea. See how perfect the water is, crystal clear. Relax, and be. You could be here forever if you wanted, content and unmoving. [/i] The comforting words almost obscure the nagging familiarity. But worry starts to build up. Am I being had? Am I being held against my will? — [i]With your will.[/i] Panic in chest. Body stirs. This is a dream! A long one! How many years have I been here? How many times have I climbed the hill of the Venomweald, or played in the courtyard of The Cipher, or boated gently along the White Ocean in youthful fascination? — [i]Rain is always hardest for you.[/i] — [i]What do you mean rain![/i] I demand. [i]The summer sun is gleaming here, in this, in this, is this dream a prison?[/i] — [i]It is raining now outside. For hours, I think.[/i] Conscious thought is starting to catch up, thoughts staying long enough to collect several together and compare, form proper memories. I had been dreaming for hours? Panic, panic! The boat rocks again. The water is darker, the sky greyer. There were movements below the surface of disfigured fish, bulging eyes, rotting skin. I jerk to my feet, upsetting the boat. I'm falling, falling from a swing, landing on rocks, tumbling down against hard stones and falling grit. — [i]Be calm. Calm and you can stay. We chose this remember.[/i] The voice was even more familiar. Imperfect, low but slightly cringe inducing. Like hearing yourself speak. I was in a glade. Sat next to a hollowed out oak. It was an idyllic scene from my recent past, but the grass was dying. Looking at the oak, I could see it was covered in some dark and sinister dust. Cold wind stabbed through the area, otherwise there was silence. — [i]This isn't what you came here to preserve, remember. You must relax, go back to the memories, stay with me. That is what you wanted.[/i] The truth hits me like the sting of a slap. The voice, it was my voice! — [i]No! The truth, I must know the truth! I demanded. You are me, I am hear because I kept myself here, that is what is happening, isn't it! — Yes. But you must go back to sleep. This is the only way to stay, to remember.[/i] But it was too late. Like a blocked pipe suddenly cleared, the voice became my memory and the floodgates opened. — [i]We know these places are gone. The land has withered. You escaped the catastrophe alive, just, but your home and true happiness have gone forever. Unfit for life, Xerxes rots beneath the ash. But here you sleep, safe, to keep your home alive. Come back and walk up the mountain path, or play in the courtyard of your father. This is the second best thing. You don't have to cry, you don't have to fear anymore. Everything you ever had they have taken from you, everything except what you keep inside, in your head, your memories. Made real again by endless sleep. The water is only this clear and blue in your head, slipping over your oar like the purest, most wonderful substance there is, has ever been. All now is poisoned and dead outside, all except what you have kept alive here. — But. But it is fading. These memories aren't real, and now I see the years have worn them thin. I will never know what is at the top of the path, because I never went all the way up. The rocky terrain I walk here will only ever be a caricature, a faded painting. Real water is more mysterious than this, in the end, perhaps being here will only renew the grief. — Maybe. Maybe the grinding of time has reached us here, and it is time to wake up. Back to life, dreary life, the pain of putting one foot in front of another when there is nothing to get to or from that matters anymore. But if we leave here, it will be forever. — To many times in life has it been easier to lie down and do nothing. To many times will people say yes because it is easier. The world could crumble because a single man chooses the easy option, the selfish option. In the future lies great opportunity, unspeakable danger, we must fight for our future. In staying here to sink beneath the waves, down to the sediment, I have failed myself. But now perhaps I can talk myself round. Because I always have a choice, have always had a choice. And I will choose now.[/i] [center][h3]***[/h3][/center] Crusted eyes snapped open as water spilled from Tobias' throat, liquid that had forced it's way into his lungs choking him in attempt to escape. Panicking, he lifted his wet body off the ground, contorting his aching torso in an attempt ease the waters getaway. With his lungs soon devoid of the foreign contaminant, his body trembled, seemingly screaming at him to desperately swallow in oxygen. Slivers past before he finally relaxed, plopping back down to the ground, suddenly exhausted. With pebbled dirt beneath his cheek, the world appeared as if seen through thick glass. High above, he gazed upon a screen of branches. A canopy. His eyes adjusted to the dim light, and he saw broken branches and a hole in the awning. His mind reeled. [i]How am I alive?[/i] Gathering his resolve, he propped himself upon his elbow, and his arm burst in a fountain of pain; A jagged gash ran down his left arm, the wound peeled back at the surface, looking like gnarled lip, and congealed blood covered the gaping cut. He recalled the scene with the beast and winced. [color=Gray]“Fate help me."[/color] he voiced aloud, looking around for a stream or nearby brook. Slowly, he lifted his soaking body, ache from stagnation hindering his progress a sliver. [i]Why was I so tired? What forced me into such a state of depleted energy? Or was I always this out of shape?[/i] The voice in his head... why was he able to recall it but unable to pinpoint its owner. Who did it belong to? Opting to deal with his more pressing problems, he struggled to his feet, only to be nearly wrenched back down by a throbbing in his other shoulder. Gently, he rolled it, and sucked in a sharp breath, it felt detached. He looked around in uncertainty, unable to figure a solution until a memory flashed. Stumbling on his feet, he hobbled to nearby tree. A strange, familiar calm came over him. At the height of his exhale he rammed his shoulder into the trunk. Following a thunk and loud pop, pain bloomed before his eyes, but when it cleared he could move his arm again. He was sure the hermit had not taught him that. Battling with his latest bout of deja vu, Tobias finally took the opportunity to survey his surroundings. All around him, pillars of wood and bark with heads as thick as megaflora towered over him. They loomed over everything, silent and brooding in their leafy reverie. Their boughs as thick as barrels, branches. reached upwards like the despairing limbs of the damned. Hanging from them were goatees of moss, mangrove-green and swishing with a lazy spite. Pools of shadow formed under those trees and fevered eyes, glazed with hunger, lurked in the carnal-black darkness. All the while, oceanic-like gales rustled the sky-high canopy, inviting with it thick icy sheets of rain that obscured his vision, yet the deep green remained unnaturally silent and foreboding, hiding behind them a maddening cocktail of whoops, squawks, screeches and wails that could be heard above the torrential downpour. Muffled by the deluge, Tobias let loose a string curses, most of which were directed towards the gods. How in bloody hells had he gotten himself into this situation? Memories suddenly resurfaced, the image of Mika slumped against a tree with a verg hovering over him forefront in his mind. [color=Gray]"Ah, that's how."[/color] he murmured despondently, his stomach swallowing itself many times over. [i]This is no time for guilt.[/i] And Tobias wholeheartedly agreed. Mika swore to meet him wherever the Silvas River ended, he needed to fulfill his end of the bargain. [i]North…[/i] he mused despondently, considering his current options and lacking odds. Their was no way he could traverse the jungle in his current condition, not to mention the supernatural deluge coupled with the fast approach of nightfall. [i]Which means I stay put and wait this out.[/i] Tobias sighed, which also meant building a shelter. Tobias put his hands to his hips and gazed up at the canopy. At most he had an hour; within that hour, he needed a fire, a shelter, food, and something to clean his wound. He cursed once again; their was only one problem with his list of chores. He was in far too much pain to be cutting and tugging branches to make a shelter and everything in this jungle was soaking wet from the rain. Shelter and fire were both going to be out of the question until he healed up a bit and finding dry tinder would prove a challenge. Tobias glanced around and realized there wasn't a damn thing he could now. He had fresh rain water to sip from the leaves and a weapon; that would have to be enough for today. It wasn't in Tobias' nature to sit idle, but it would seem that just now, idleness was being forced upon him. He limped a short distance from his tree, answered nature's call and limped his way back. Settling himself down gingerly, he sipped at some leaf water before reaching for his sickle-sword, which conveniently lay nearby. He then pulled off his wet boots and socks. The last thing he wanted out here was jungle rot, Mika had made it very clear how bad it could get. Tobias knew survival with his injuries was going to be a challenge. The best he could do was stay resting a day or two and get down to business when he could move and breathe with a lot less pain. Overdoing it now would only help get him killed. [center][h3]***[/h3][/center] Tobias weaved through the trees along the Silvas with little more than guesswork to guide him. His breath came in small spurts, hot and nervous. At his sides, dark fingers curled into sweaty fists, swinging forward as if it would make him faster. Behind him, he could hear the rattle of his assailants breath, its thundering steps drawing ever closer. Mud smeared his sweaty face as sweat dripped from his matted hair.  [color=gray]"Please Divines, let me live!"[/color] he cried aloud, throwing himself forward with even greater abandon. His lungs and heart were pumping, but the air didn't seem to be enough as he sprinted forward, panic trembling in his exhausted limbs. Cresting a hill, he broke free of a dense patch of needle leafs and rolled freely down an embankment, a natural landslide that served his purposes more effectively now that it was covered in moss and sped his escape from whatever hunted him. As the canopy overhead thickened, his steps grew muffled by the dense undergrowth that blanketed the jungle floor; the ground no longer rocky beneath his soles. Tobias could no longer tell where he was going. For hours he ran, and for hours [i]it[/i] chased. What [i]it[/i] exactly was for now remained a mystery to him. Days past had proven unproductive as his body still suffered from the first days injures. Then one morning he awoke with [i]it[/i] stalking him and without hesitation, he took off running with [i]it[/i] after him. Before Tobias could form another thought, yellow-gold eyes reappeared in front of him, pupils narrowing to needle-thin slits. For a moment, all he see was the monster, and then it stepped forward through the hanging curtains of thick mist, sunlight glinting off its glittering golden fur and silver claws. [i]Ah, a Nemean lion.[/i] Tobias cursed, wondering a bit at its beauty. He was in no condition to fight such a beast, unfortunately, thier was no outrunning it, [color=Gray]"Here, kitty, kitty."[/color] He called softly, his tone menacing and eyes watching the lion's every move. It rumbled threateningly low in response, light flashing off its giant pointed teeth, its tail twitching lazily from side to side. Tobias watched as it kneaded the ground with its claws, it's muscles rippling underneath its golden fur. Suddenly, it tensed, readying itself to leap, all the while, Tobias knew he needed to make the first move if wanted a chance at beating this thing. Without a second more to spare, he yelled a battle cry-something outside his character, but an attention grabber none the less. The lion roared is response so forcefully that he could feel his hair blowing back, and hear the rustling of the leaves in the trees as if a powerful wind just passed by. Immediately, he took to the attack, thrusting his sword at its chest, knowing very well it wouldn't do any damage. His sword skating off in a burst of sparks, snapping violently in half. Before he could voice his dismay, he leapt out reach of its claws, and sprinted into the tree, checking behind him to see if it was following him. It was-only a few feet behind him, swiping at him back with its ten-inch claws. Gritting his teeth, he swerved abruptly sideways, slipping narrowly between two trees, remarkably close together for a lion to follow-although it didn't stop it from trying. Sliding to a halt as he turned, nails digging deep furrows in the earth, it bounded forward, slipping a paw after him, scraping and slashing at the bark in an effort to get to him. At least it wasn't that smart, in any case, he was. Tobias sprinted out of reach, zig-zagging through the trees until he found the perfect one. Stopping, he pulled himself up into one of the trees, climbing until he more than twenty feet above the ground, waiting for the lion to walk below him. It wasn't long before it stalked out of the trees, head low to the ground, setting its paws lightly upon the undergrowth, following his scent, trying to sneak up on him. Tobias grinned savagely, the joke's on it, this time. Letting himself fall from his branch, he landed hard on the lion's back, driving the air from his lungs all the while using his weight to stumble and fall the lion, its front paws tangling beneath it, sending it face-first into the dirt. Without a moment to spare, he drew is halved sickle-sword, slashing at the lion's face, aiming for the eyes. Quickly, it attempted to climb back to its feet, yet it made the mistake of turning to try to bite at him, and the tip of his blade scratched across the surface of a giant yellow-gold eye; not as deep a cut as he'd like, but the lion's wails of pain satisfied him. The lion's movements jostled Tobias off of its back, but he didn't mind, he couldn't kill it unless he on the ground. Racing forward to try to get at it while it was distracted by the pain in its eye, it straightened just as he neared, glaring hate with a bleeding, bloodshot red eye weeping tears. Tobias cursed and tried to veer away, but the evasion came too late, and the lion's paw swiped out with enough force to send him flying twenty feet into a tree. His head cracked against the trunk and pain erupted like a supernova all through him. The edges of his vision went ragged and black and what he could see was blurry and unfocused. The sight of the Nemean lion stalking towards him was clear enough, though. He struggled to rise to his feet, the tip of his sword dragging in the dirt; he had somehow managed to keep a hold of it. Summoning his strength, he straightened and twisted his sword in his hand, smacking the hilt directly between the lion's eyes and sending it stumbling away. Quickly, he staggered to his left, the opposite direction it went in, trying to get back to the rivers edge. He could hear the lion roaring and wailing in rage and pain behind him, which encouraged him to quicken his pace, but that only caused him to trip and nearly fall, forcing him to steady himself against the trunk of a tree, scraping his hand badly on the bark. When he gazed at it, the cut was deep and dripping blood. His head span dizzily, but he kept on, reaching the river bank just as the Nemean lion reached him. Its breathing hard behind him, he twisted just in time for one of its claws to catch his skin, tearing along the shoulder of his shirt and down across his collarbone. He stumbled back, nearly falling, his vision blurring suddenly giving the world a pair of clones, but he stood firm, raising his sword, his arm straining with the effort. The lion roared and took to the attack, slashing at him again; narrowly he turned away in time to avoid a fatal blow and the claws raked across his back, shredding flesh. The force of the hit sent him onto the ground, yet he fought through the pain, scrambling to stand, but his head wouldn't let him. Facing the lion from the ground, his hands bracing his weight behind him, knees half drawn up to his chest, he watched as the lion came tauntingly closer and closer. It roared again, defiantly, triumphantly, and then lunged forward, its mouth gaping wide to bite out his throat and end the fight one and for all. Cursing the gods one last time, he threw up his left arm with slivers to spare and screamed in pain as its teeth clamp down on his arm. Gritting his own teeth, and recognizing that this as his last chance, he thrusted his sword down the lion's throat. Abruptly, teeth released his arm, making an awful suction as it wailed at his sword ripping it open from the inside. It gaged, choked and shuddered, then, seconds later, it fell lifeless. A strange calm fell over Tobias, he couldn't stand, but crawled over to the carcass, dragging his sword, which felt like it weighed thousands of pounds, but feeling unsafe without it, he gripped it reassuringly in his hand and collapsed onto the lion, his strength finally giving out and his mind spiraling into darkness. [hider=Tobias the Jungle-man] Tobias dreams of his past and meets another [b]him[/b] inside it. The dream also happens to know of the tragedy that befell Xerxes, and knows about the place in general while Tobias does not. This fact does not concern him as much as getting out does. With a warning of the dangers outside, Tobais wakes up in the Venomweald, injured and wet. Surveying his surroundings, he comes to the conclusion that travel isn't the best of ideas in the rain coupled with his current condition. So he sleeps. Suddenly, he's in a full-sprint through the Venomweald, chased by one of the jungles many super-predators. He manages to defeat it, but not without sustaining major injuries. The Venomweald claims its millionth victim. [/hider]