Michellin

Wanderers

Kire answered his question, still marveling at how such a warm person could have any resemblance to the three that attacked them earlier, and, to a lesser degree, how a grouch like Rulitus could have ever been close to him. She nodded when he reassured her that the Kartaians wouldn’t track them here, and followed quietly when they went back inside. Now that there wasn’t any immediate danger she could foresee, Kire felt the tiredness of the day weigh upon her. There was a dull ache at her side, when did that happen?, and she grunted, assumed she had been hit during the fight. The Ring would ensure the bruising wouldn’t last long, but she’d still feel it in the meantime.

Once inside, Kire leaned back on the opposite corner where Rulitus stood and sighed. The beginning, eh? Her tired mind ran through which information she had already volunteered to her companion earlier, disentangling it from the more complicated whole she had yet to divulge, and told that to Envy: Ikegai’s drive to control and own the world, his blood magic, his dolls. How he must have struck some dark deal with the Kartaians. And how he had been using her likeness for his own schemes. She told Envy about her arrival in Ziad up to the Kartaian attack, though to her credit she had omitted much of her confrontation with Rulitus. “I am sorry that he’s spread his influence here and all the pain that came with it. And for dragging you into this.” Kire frowned at the floor. “I’m hoping I can put an end to him, and destroy my double, with your help.”

Wanderers

The history between the two men was clear. Kire stepped aside, crossing her arms as she observed their exchange. What a curious affair I have found myself in. More than just some casual friendship, this one. Envy spoke to him as if to a prodigal son. She smirked when Envy threatened Rulitus with her dragging him, and if she were to be honest she almost wished the Kartaian would follow through with it. But alas, Rulitus had finally listened to reason and went up to his estranged friend, though Kire was consoled by the sight of the giant man enveloping the grouch in an embrace he couldn’t escape.

Kire followed up after, giving them space and standing beside Ysaryn instead. “The smell isn’t the only unpleasant thing about him,” she said quietly to the woman, but otherwise didn’t interrupt their reunion just yet. I’d have gone mad if I stayed away from my family for that long, Kire thought. She had run away from her problems before, but ultimately she would’ve rather died than be parted with the people she loved. That’s also how long they’ve stayed here then. “We’re both still rather winded from our fight with the Kartaian hunters,” she said after a while, “may we rest a while inside?”

Wanderers

How many refugees are there in here? Kire wondered as she stepped back out, giving Ysaryn a small smile. She was about to ask when Envy called their attention, meaning to go with them. It looked like Ysaryn had already assumed the role of guide for him, but Kire kept an eye out for him as they made their way back outside. Kire saw the way he reacted as he took in the night air. He must spend a lot of time in there. Upon Ysaryn’s gesture, Kire nodded, and led the way.

“He should be here,” she said over her shoulder. “I’ll go get him now.” He better have stayed put, she thought, picking her way back down the hill. “Hey, Rulitus. Envy’s asking for you,” she called out as she reached level ground below. She stared at him, hands on her waist. “He looks less reluctant to meet you than you are to see him,” she pointed out.

Wanderers

“He is,” Kire said immediately. If there had been some bad blood between them, she would have seen it in his face. This was something else. “He said you two weren’t on good terms. I didn’t press him on the matter. I left him at the foot of the hill, past your wards,” she added, hazarding a guess about the aura she had sensed here and in Ziad. “I could fetch him, if you’d like. He is very stubborn, but you probably already know that.”

Wanderers

Kire felt a bit more at ease in the woman’s presence as they waited for the boy to fetch this ‘Envy’. “Nobody likes being woken,” she conceded. At her request to touch the armor, Kire blinked, in parts amused and a little awkward at the genuine curiosity she showed over her. “Well-met, Ysaryn. Kire,” she replied, watching as the woman prodded her armor. So she was called upon to help after the sacking. And stayed with them ever since?

The boy returned, asking her to leave her weapon behind. Kire frowned at that. While she understood the reason, she didn’t want to part with it anyway. Relieved that the boy had changed his mind, she followed, hands on her sides as she walked behind him. How much had this boy seen of Ziad’s pillaging? she wondered, even as she marveled at how absolutely quiet it had gotten. More magic. Rulitus pointed me in the right direction, then.

She almost jumped back a step, her hand on her sword, when she finally saw who this ‘Envy’ was. Kartaian! And yet—her gaze quickly assessed the burn scars on his body, the way his body was slumped as he sat on his meager bed, Ysaryn and the boy. Kire had to make a conscious effort to relax her body and not think Rulitus had delivered her to Ikegai’s friends, after all. “I apologize—Envy. My name is Kire. You might have met someone who bore my face, half a year ago.” She paused, her mind burning with so many questions about Envy and Rulitus. “I’m looking for her and her maker, and I believe they’ve had a hand in what happened to Ziad. I met a man named Rulitus there, who brought me here so I could get help.” She unclasped her helmet and removed it. “Kartaians had been sent after me back when we were at the ruins. I don’t think they’ll be able to track me this far, we had only just dealt with the first three hunters they had sent.” She glanced at the boy Aeron, wishing he hadn’t been present for such conversation. “If that concerns you, I will understand. I just thought I would try my luck with a sorcerer native to this land.”

Wanderers

Kire followed, though not too close, still feeling wary of traps, or at least attempts to deceive her and lead her down some other path to keep her from discovering their real hideout. Though when the woman led her to the stone, Kire had an inkling it was a hidden passageway of sorts. More testament to this sorcerer’s prowess, then. The aura grew stronger with each step, and as she passed through the ‘stone’, Kire could faintly smell tobacco. She cocked an eyebrow at her guide; for some reason, she seemed to delight in the whole affair. The expression didn’t seem malicious, so Kire shook her head, paying it no more mind.

The smells down here were much more pleasant than the welcome she had the other day at Ziad. This was place the exact opposite of that: alive, and somehow thriving. It felt like a proper refuge, the kind Kire wanted for her own family in exile. Even more, Kire wondered how Rulitus could refuse this life, if he really did know who this sorcerer was. What could have been so terrible that the man would cut himself off from others the way he had? Kire, though was startled out of her thoughts upon entering the main chamber.

A boy. How many people were living here? Are they all survivors from Ziad? She was about to ask her guide when she saw finally what her features were like under her hood. The similarities to the Kartaians were there, as she had wondered earlier, but the differences were even more pronounced. Envy? When the woman turned to her and complimented her hair, Kire broke into her first real smile since coming here, albeit a small one. The woman had such an easygoing manner about her, or perhaps her first two days with Rulitus had weighed her down so much she hadn’t expected to encounter this sort of warmth. “Thank you. I like your eyes,” she said, allowing herself a brief grin as she returned the compliment. Kire decided she liked this person. “Uh. What, or who, is ‘Envy’?”

Wanderers

A woman? Was the sorcerer this woman? Kire didn’t immediately answer, observing her. Her eyes were different from those Kartaians, but Kire had the impression that this one was like distant kin to them. Very distance, considering the diplomacy the Paladin was being shown and the absence of anything to skewer her with. Pretty eyes. “I—er. I am not, but Rulitus is. We traveled from Ziad, but I’m a stranger to the place. Rulitus tells me he has a friend here? A sorcerer?”

Now for the ‘why’, which was a harder question to answer, at least believably. “I am a hunter,” she said, a simple enough summation of a complicated truth. “I am looking for the person who helped destroy Ziad. A dangerous criminal. I am told there is someone here who could aid me in looking for him.” Kire kept her hands away from her sword. She was lucky this woman was sent to welcome her, but clearly anybody else from Ziad would likely identify her face. “May I ask for safe passage to meet the sorcerer? I—well. I might not be too welcome, but I can explain to him why. Rulitus vouches for me.” She considered adding that her companion was somewhere downhill, but decided against it for now.

Wanderers

The night didn’t offer much by way of guiding light, but Kire soon was able to pick her way through it. Once she knew the general direction of it, she kept her eyes on her surroundings, tense with concentration for any errant feeling to disturb her senses. Nothing yet, until—there it is! A tingle, making her whole body shiver, similar to the magic she sensed in the earth in Ziad but stronger, fresher. Her nose and mouth filled with the signature of its caster: a sweet smell and taste, like the nectar of flowers. Incense smoke? It wasn’t unpleasant, but Kire knew to be wary of anything that had to do with magic.

She risked a backward glance. No Rulitus. She hissed out a sigh. If she were to summon a portal now, it wouldn’t take her very far, and that would deplete the reserves of dragon-strength she could call upon. Best to proceed, for now. “Try not to look like a murderous wench,” she reminded herself. How did one do that? She didn’t exactly have the gentlest of countenances at the moment. But she let go of her sword hilt, tried to walk with a more relaxed gait, and hoped this sorcerer didn’t have any marksmen trained on her every step.

The sweet-smoky scent was everywhere. This was strong magic. Rulitus was right about the level of skill his "friend" had. Why were they not on good terms? Besides that rosy attitude, she wondered. "Now what?" she asked aloud. Clearing her throat, she raised both hands. "Rulitus sent me," she said, louder this time.

Wanderers

Kire braced herself against the cold. Without the immediate threat of the Kartaians at their heels, she felt more nervous about the journey. Why did it take longer? The moment they emerged, she stepped away from him, relieved to find herself on safe ground. Blinking as she readjusted once more to the terrain, she noted how the terrain looked to be where the desert ended. She was about to ask Rulitus about the place when she noticed the way his body sagged. She didn’t understand the look on his face, but the rest of him had tells. Not on good terms?

Already she narrowed her eyes at the hill he had been pointing at. “That’s—mighty convenient,” she muttered under her breath. The suspicious part of her wondered if he had led her to a trap, which would make his efforts to save her earlier rather redundant. She kept her hand on her sword hilt. “As you wish.” She had already taken a couple of steps forward before turning suddenly. “Have they seen her—the doll? What are they going to think seeing me just waltz up to their home or hiding place, wearing this face while carrying around a big sword? You weren’t exactly jumping up and down with glee back there.” Kire rubbed the bridge of her nose, frowning. “Nevermind. Hopefully this friend of yours has a friendlier attitude than you.”

With a huff she continued on before he changed his mind and dragged her away from here. The hill was rather steep, and the rough, jagged rocks proved a challenge to climb, but soon enough Kire found the treeless path he had described. Someone will find you. “Ominous,” she muttered, looking at every dark crevice with suspicion.

Wanderers

Kire wasn’t sure why he looked dejected. Was it because of lack of skill, or something else? Was she asking for too much? Or was this other sorcerer hard to find? Either way, she should be lucky he even offered either option. “Rulitus. Well-met.” A habit, really, especially given the circumstances of their meeting. She’d have clasped his hand, otherwise. And she still wasn’t sure if the disappearing ability was the only weapon he had in his arsenal. “Akire. Just Kire.” She almost asked if the doll that had her face used her name as well.

She walked over to the water to wash her face some more. “Let me get presentable first.” There was still dried blood all over her cuirass, so as quickly and efficiently as she could, Kire took it off to wash. The desert air was even chillier with just her tunic underneath. “Wouldn’t do to show up at their doorstep looking like murder, hm?” she muttered aloud, more to herself than him. “So. I’m still wondering. Does everybody around here know how to do the—I don’t know what you call it, that thing you do, disappearing into the darkness. Is this sorcerer adept at that?”

Once she was ready, she put on the armor again, and walked over to the fire. “Are we going to look for that sorcerer friend then?”