RP:Clad in Silver - a Journey into the Darkness

Summary: Artia and Thamalys embark in a cumbersome journey to collect what is needed to craft a queer enchantment. They take from infuriated pixies to ancient trees, before ending no less than a seething dragon in a mayhem of bloody vines and blue flames. In doing so, the Witch has to unleash a dark part of herself she deemed as forgotten, much to the dread of the Avian. Eventually, the enchantment is conjured, and the Spellblade finds himself contemplating his now unfamiliar, silvery wings, each feather harder than steel thanks to the witchcraft of the Read Headed.

Larket: Artia’s Ranch - Making Ready

Thamalys approached the foyer with mixed feelings, of the order of three parts of trepidation and two of genuine concern. An awful lot was throbbing into the head of the Blue, but most of that sort of melted away the moment he actually set foot into that hall, the spicy blend in the air lifting his spirit quite already. Some decent amount of mithril covered his tattooed skin, legs, chest, cuffs, and neck, shining fiercely into the morning sun. Other than that, a simple pair of - battered and torn - black leather pants, and a loose, dark-green shirt hanging like oversized tapestry on the slender shapes of the Avian. Wings folded, their edges constantly brushing the many ivory braids playfully dancing across his shoulders, the Spellblade seemed unarmed, his only weapon hidden within the very ink he carried with him. Nobody to be seen yet, thus he would have stopped at the entrance, fiddling with the wood running across the missing door. “Hello?” he tried, but he had to clear his throat first to produce a decent recall. “Hello?” he uttered again, this time a bit louder, never to disturb, always to politely inquire.

Artia || The witch was in her backyard digging up some potatoes for a stew later, beside her rest the sleeping half avian child. She sported a faded yellow dress, with torn lace sleeves barely hanging on, obviously her gardening or a possible of getting dirty dress. The nanny went to the calling voice, as Artia had given her a break, a not so needed break as Artia did most the raising of her child unless she had to travel to other cities. Traveling insured thieves, or wild beast, so Ava being so small she was too defenseless for the time being. Soon, soon Artia would take her further out into the world letting her see the things her mother gets to see. “What you want winged man?” The nanny asked a bit rudely, Artia hearing the nanny speak out. A winged man? If it was the child’s father she would had sent him around the house, if was Brennia she would probably tried to flirt as Brennia was one of the most beautiful females in the lands. Standing up to dust off of her hands, leaving dirt smudges on the skirt. “Mary, come take Ava please.” Once the Nanny was in sight, the witch moved inside to spot Thamalys, causing a smile. “Thamalys, I see you have come back to get your wings harden. I made us a list of items we will need. Then we can test on leaves before we apply it. Come into the kitchen please.” Turning she headed inside, opening up her own little book. Ripping a bag from it, “Here we go. It will take use traveling to get these items, now once we do this…your wings will be heavier. Are you sure? Once done, it can not be undone.” The list includes dragon or similar scale, soil from enchantment, a leaf from Xalious tree, skull of a dead man, a drop of avian blood, and the final item a chicken foot.

Thamalys frowned the tiniest bit at being address that briskly by the old lady. Elsewhere, she would have been in for a treat - but not within the walls of this homestead, where, the Spellblade knew, the Witch and the Half-Avian had to be not too far away. Beside, Artia just made her entrance, rendering the rebuke of the nanny basically mute. “I…” began the Blue, dipping his head to the right in a condescend expression, “… I came to see the Lady of the House. Whom, in fact, I believe just honoured me with her presence” he continued, outstretching his unnaturally long arm beyond the old one, pointing toward the Witch to whom a genuine - if graceless - bow would have been directed. Stepping away from the entrance, a couple of steps only taking to circumvent the crone, on he went, curiosity surfacing in those solid blue eyes in the form of branched streaks of gold. “I came back indeed, ma’am. I was hoping for that list… - thank you. I hope is not a long one! Ah, heavier, you say…” he considered, bringing thumb and index finger of his right hand to his lips, a thoughtful manner painted on that bony face. “Well, I suppose it was to be expected. As long as I will still able to enjoy the Wind on my skin… then sure, it seems a fair price to be paid, I say. Where shall we begin?” he inquired, eager to get started. But then, he sort of retraced his last step, lowering his voice and softly asking. “How is the Little One doing - if I may ask? Sleeping? She does sleep a lot…” he noted, something similar to a grin appearing within his lineaments.

Artia || The nanny made the appearance with the young half avian child, whose large eyes like her mothers were being rubbed. Having mastered the strength to lift her own head now and be carried upon a hip. Her vision developing even more, seeing someone with wings always made the child happy. Probably hoping it to be some of her mother’s friends, or even higher hopes her father, a happy coo escaped between her pink lips. Hands reaching out for the avian to take her, the nanny looking to Artia as if asking if she should let someone like –him- hold the child. “If he wants too, Mary let him.” Looking back to Thamalys, “Now, we need a scale from a dragon or something similar as that will cast the hardness you want. Leaf from the Xalious tree will hold enchanting magics, don’t ask how I know…it was very explosive.” She had to give a chuckle, A drop of your blood to seal it to you. Final, a chicken food due to the creature having wings so it will work for wings. Feathered wings at that. So, should I pack snacks for the road? Are you prepared to fly us both around today?”

Thamalys was quite taken aback from the swift unravelling of the events. “No no, I would not dare…” he hastily addressed the old lady, widely gesturing with both hands. And yet, he stretched his left one till right in front of the Little One, her eyes duly following, so that the Blue spent some time in drawing some silly patterns into the air, out of mere content in witnessing such a tiny creature moving her very first steps into that world. In the meantime, he kept on nodding more or less gravely, noting every item on the list - not too long it was, indeed, but something like a dragon scale… not exactly to be found at your local grocery. Mythayus would have probably helped with that? Who knew… but then, at the mention of the field trip - and flying, as well! - the Avian would have turned his head away from Ava to nail his gaze upon the Witch. “You mean… as of now?” he asked not without a hint of surprise, eyes widening into deepest pits of solid color, shortly after nonetheless adding: “Why, I suppose that the sooner the better… oh, snacks? Well, as long as they will not be too heavy… a Witch and a Child I can deal with, but let us refrain from bringing with us any bottle of that excellent Red of yours…” he concluded with a sigh. “Ehm. Well. Ready when you are, m’lady. If you would be so kind to follow me outside… first stop, if I may?” he voiced while turning on his heels, with long strides approaching the garden, wings twitching as if already anticipating the thrill of the Wind.

Artia || While Artia waited for his answer on his she should pack items for the road, or sky she began to wash her hands of the dirt. Forgetting to wash off a smudge that had managed to rest on her chin, turning back around to face him the same smile returned. Ava jumped around in the Nanny’s embrace at what Thamalys was doing, panting with excitement. “Mary, I left bottles in the cool box. Also fresh blankets on my bed if she needs them.” Moving to Ava she kissed her forehead, turning back to the kitchen grabbing apples and biscuits, and a handful of dried meats. “A child? Thamalys, she is a bit to young for adventures still. The nanny here will tend to her while we head out.” Moving outside behind him tying the ties tightly into a knot so it would rest as a purse, “Is this okay to get going already, or were you just hoping for a list and chat? We can still get what we need, come back here for the vegetable stew if either of else feel like eating by the time everything is done.” She stood beside him outside in her garden, awaiting for his lead.

Thamalys lazily reached a fairly large clearing within the garden, his eyes measuring the space available. “That will probably do…” he muttered, a split second before turning his head toward the Witch and answering the latter with something fairly similar to a smile first, and some proper words soon after. “Of course, of course, what was I thinking?” he commented with reference to the silly idea of bringing Ava with the two of them - parenting skills he had none, in case that was not clear enough already. “Vegetable stew, I hear you say?” he probed with the curiosity of a teen, his lips snapping. “Why, we better be going, then. Oh. And…” he would have added, ring finger of his right hand pointing to her first and his own chin right after, clearly suggesting something went amiss with the washing up. Eventually, ready he was. He would have spent some instants considering what he was about to do. Avians very rarely allowed any other kin to ride them into the sky. Exceedingly proud Avians such as the Blue, even more rarely indeed. He could have numbered the people he would have included in that list within the fingers of one hand only. And yet, the Witch had only kindness for him - or maybe it was the sight of little winged Ava, that somehow helped him to swallow the pride. Oh, and let us not forget he had a debt to be paid. That settled it once and for all. He shook his head slowly, only to rise is toward the sky above. He would have kneeled, hand connecting with the ground, instants after unravelling the full extent of those monumental wings, like huge curtains cutting the air, a feathery mass that menaced already to catch the breeze and take him up soaring high. Instead, his bare feet pinned into the soil, the Blue would have lowered his left wing, allowing the Witch to just climb on him. His body was not meant to be used as a chair. Bony, sharp, in other words uncomfortable, and yet there where the roots of his wings lingered, some seating could have been found. “If you will…” he just conceded, in a tone not necessarily friendly.

Artia shook her head playfully at her friend, “It’s okay, when she learns to fly I will be in trouble.” She teases the thought of the young one flying, and the mother having no wings to stay caught up. The gesture was noted and she rubbed her chin, blushing slightly at the miss of dirt. “I have a feeling you will be wanting to come by for more visit around dinner times, which is fine I do not mind the company. Either does Ava-Marie for that matter, now we need to head to Enchantment first. The land of the Pixies and Faeries, be careful and do not eat anything if offered, mischievous little creatures.” His wing dropped, and she was hesitant, “Couldn’t I just, wrap my arms around your neck, and your arms around my waist instead? If not that is fine, you just told me not to touch your wings, and I don’t want to be in the way of the wings…” She moved to climb on, if he changed his mind she moves around to the front of him. “Let’s get going.”

Thamalys limited himself to listen, a note taking about pixies and fairies - oh, he would mind. Trust a few only, that was his motto, and those tiny creatures were not included in that number. “No, you see, that way we would offer such a hefty resistance to the air, I will get tired in a matter of minutes. On my back, instead, you can lean as much as you like, and without any fear of falling - ah, do not worry about my wings. They will know what to do, and as per the touching… well, if I can allow you to sit on my back, that is a whole different level of an issue, is it not?” he groaned, the Witch already in position. Without further ado, and with very little notice indeed, the Avian leaped on his feet, a dozen of long strides collecting before swooping down his wings, a massive bulk of air shoving below them, his feet already off the ground. However, no matter how slender the shapes of the Witch, the Avian had to put some effort to take off properly, two whole up and down moves of those massive pinions needed to finally lift the both of them high enough to - barely - clear the fir trees of the garden. Overcome that hurdle, things would have went much smoother. The winged beast banked slightly on his right, catching a much welcome thermal bringing the odd pair soaring into the clear sky at a dreadful speed - he just hoped Artia would have been brave enough to endure such a bumpy flight. Finally at a decent height, high above Larket, in fact, the Spellblade would have drawn wide circles into the air, much as a bird of prey pinpointing the unlucky hare. The Wind roared across the fabric of their attire, the braids of the Blue dancing madly in the breeze. He did not talk at all, maybe focused on keeping the two of the squarely in the clouds, maybe still abashed himself by what he just did. The outskirt of Enchantment could already be seen - if from a mighty distance.

Artia had experience with flying with avian's before, so as soon as they were up in the air she giggled! Excitement running through her, "I have missed this so much!! I wish I had wings to enjoy such heights like this! The air smells so much better up here, the views...you winged beings are lucky! I am envious of you." Looking around she saw the outskirts of enchantment, "We need to find the water in enchantment, near it we can gather the soil needed. Let's find somewhere to land?" She nuzzled into him tightly, expecting the drop to be rough.

Thamalys sighed, the words of the Witch carving painful memories in his mind. Yes, magnificent beasts, these Avians, and yet so much sorrow in so many of them… “Ah, enough with this nonsense…” he whispered the Blue to himself only, his words lost in the Wind. Artia’s enquiry, though, he heard, as indicated by the fact he raised his right hand against the flow in a reassuring gesture. Thus, he fixed his eyes on the land below, in fairness not so rich of options for an Avian wishing to land safely and sound - and with a Witch on top of him! Eventually, he decided to opt for what seemed - from the distance - to be a relatively wide stretch of bare soil not too far away from the glimmering magic of the Moat. “Hold tight!” he would have warned sternly, before freezing mid-air, an awful moment when he seemed to stall, only to plunge head-down into the air, flooding his wings across his back to both gaining some speed and to protect the Witch, hopefully surrounded by a soft cocoon of pearly white feathers. The ground was growing closer by the minute, time to unfurl those ivory hangings against the wind once more, suddenly dropping most of their speed with a loud snap that shook that enchanted silence. Levelling his body with the land below, and then pivoting around his waist into the air, the Spellblade eventually stood upright, his feet the first thing connecting with… the mud, thick oozy mud it was. Maybe not that especially pleasant, but surely much welcome in that he sort of softened the impact, so strong he menaced to knock the Avian off his balance. And yet, with a supreme effort, he just squatted to distribute the blow, finally coming to an alt and lowering his left wing once more, for the Witch to climb down. “I hope that was not too harsh…” he would have muttered, his eyes darting already here and there, an unfamiliar path laying ahead.

Kingdom of Enchantment: Crystal Clear Moat - Get that Clay

Artia squealed with excitement as they went towards the ground with such speed, obviously the Witch was use to flying around with avian as she altered her weight to help with his landing. Once they landed she slipped down, moving around to the front of him. Hair a mess, but her smile was so bright and full of joy, "Thank you..Thamalys, you have no clue how much that flight made my day, even year. Minus Ava-Marie, but you have no clue what you just did for me. From here, we should spare you from flying around with me. Probably more annoying for you then anything, and I am sorry if flying with me bothered you any. We can find a away to get around faster I am sure." She offered him a soft smile, with worry Thamalys might resent her or their friendship. Looking down at the mud they landed in, reaching into the bag gathering a bag to place a sample of the mud into. "First ingredient, check. Also, not harsh at all I loved it."

Thamalys exhaled a long sigh, outstretching both hand and shortly after shaking his shoulders as to get rid of the growing stiffness he felt building in his bones. “Don’t mention it, it is the least I can do…” he offered to the Witch, a faint bow following. Then, the Blue watch intently as the very first of the items on the docket was collected - this one was not that difficult to get an hold onto, but more had to follow. “I am glad to hear you enjoyed the wind. I can only imagine what would be for Ava when the time will come. Sadly, I have no memories of mine in that respect… but the every day is gift, and tomorrow is a mystery, they say…” he pondered aloud, his mind sort of pushing the wrecked boundaries of his conscious self, trying to break the walls hiding what was broken even more. No, not yet, not today. He let go both arms along his body, a willowy shape pinned into the mud. “Splendid! What’s next, Captain?” he joked, an hand offering to help the Witch to clear the puddles without endangering the yellow of her dress.

Artia took his hand, offering a smile to him. "Now, we sneak out without those winged trouble makers knowing what we have. They don't like things being..." She whispered, "took." Looking at the Mudd she squished it with a stomp of her feet, looking up to him with a sly grin. "If we didn't need to rush off, I might've started a mud fight." Looking around she saw the twinkling of pixie dust coming closer, "They are coming..you can fly I can run the way into the sage forest out of here. Split up, it be harder for them to track who was here. I'll meet you at the path to the north outside Kelay on the western side." Giving a grip to his hand before she dropped it, taking the bag of mud tucking it away as she took off running quickly. As she took off pixies shown them selves, tossing tiny Spears in the witches wake which only caused laughter.

Thamalys did not exactly enjoyed the idea of having just stolen something - even if that something was basically a lump of clay. “Silly, fussy, picky pixies…” he hummed while listening to the Witch’s words. The mention of a mud fight, oh, that one raised an eyebrow - but there was very little time to elaborate on that. “As you wish. Stay safe, Witch…” he murmured watching Artia disappearing ahead of him. The Tiny Ones would have reached him already, swiftly floating around armed with all sort of miniature weapons. He would have laughed even louder than the Witch. He could have turned the whole lot to dust, but he was not a creature of evil, so he just swayed his right hand, from left to right in a wide arc, a gush of liquid blue flames blossoming from his ink and shaping themselves into the head of a hellhound - Rohk was a true inspiration when it boiled down to fireworks. Shrieks and cries would have followed, but the Blue did not seem to care. He took all the time he wanted to leap into the air once more, savouring his flesh dancing with the wind. Soaring high above Xalious, he could not locate the Witch, but he did trust her word, slowly descending where he was told to. Softly, he reached the ground, dusting off some pixie dust from his shirt whilst having a look around, waiting.

Xalious Mountain Range: Mountain Path - Ye Ol' Tree

Artia heard his laugh, he was having a good time too. Good, this adventure was supposed to be fun. After a while she was seen jogging into view, stopping beside him to catch her breath it was a very long run it seemed for a mere human. Looking up to him panting she started to laugh, "Those pixies thought they could get us, eh? What you do to them? I thought I heard them scared?" She straightens up, tilting her head to follow her into Xalious city borders. "Bet it felt great giving you a break from flying me around.”

Thamalys greeted the Witch with a swift gesture of head and hand. He felt rather guilty at the sight of her, obviously quite tested by the tough dash through the woods. “Why, in fact I would have gladly oblige if only I could stop you… but I won’t lie to you, it is not the weight, it is about the intimate pleasure of giving myself to the Wind. It is a rather difficult thing to explain… oh, well. Anyway…” he muttered, discarding this last queer words with a brisk flick of his wrist. “Those silly puny creatures… nothing harsh, mind you, just a bit of a display. I recently found I can convince my flames to shape themselves into all sort of different animals… not very useful, but there is some art into it. When Ava will be a bit older, we shall have a proper firework-based evening!”, he claimed with a broad grin on his face. He omitted the fact he could shape his flames into human features as well, as he felt little need to share the evidence he always ended up with summoning a rather faithful - if flaming - copy of a certain Ice Genasi. “So… what are we looking for in here?” he inquired, curiously scanning the neighbourhoods as if looking for some hidden treasure.

Artia moved them closer to the reason they were here, "We got lucky though, they can change to a different height then so tiny. The females like to distracted then go for the kill since their queen has disappeared. She would love that I am sure, she seems to like bright stuff. " She stopped there movements watching him create Emilia, "Oh! That is so neat, I have no magic like that I wonder what else you can do with those flames." She didn't seem to move around like there would be something popping up, luckily there wouldn't be at least here. Once they reached the Xalious tree, she pointed. "This, we need one of its golden leaves. Let's take two, just to be safe." She moved around looking along the ground, hoping for some fallen ones. "Oh boy...so..this time..you might have to grab me and we take off quickly. Last time I took a leaf, the tree sent like a magic discharge that was explosive. So. Get ready." With both hands she grabbed two leaves. Immediately the tree began to glow, "Now..we need to go now fast!”

Kelay Town: Dragon Graveyard - The Darkness Within

Thamalys noticed immediately that something both mighty and ancient was at work within the knotty shapes of the old tree. The moment Artia snatched the leaves, he run toward her, literally picking her up within his long arms and, without too much of a warning, spreading his wings and leaping into the air. The gentle slope would have helped - a lot, the Avian presently gliding high enough to eventually build some speed and climb above the trees. He knew where to go - hence the reason why he could feel a long, cold shiver building inside his spine. Dragons, even dead ones, he feared above everything else, his cruel past still nagging as those memories of captivity and pain. He said nothing, though - not until the two travellers reached the entrance of the graveyard. There, a wave of sheer fear swept over him, the willowy shapes of the Blue actually leaning on those of the Witch, a trembling hand lay on her shoulder. “I… I am not sure I can enter this place…” he began, tears of cold sweat forming on his brow, a colossal, spiky head of a black dragon emerging in his mind, laughing madly, a physical pain that bent him in two. In a flurry of sorrow and despair, the Spellblade was close to - eventually - shatter those walls and let his past flood him with all his nasty weight, a whole century of disgust and fear ready to break him once more. Those piles of immense bones seemed to come together and push, as a single being, against his tired senses. Where the effort of the Guild failed, the might of those ancient beings - even in their death, would have had the power to succeed, potentially changing the Blue in a way nobody could have ever imagined. “I… would have to apologies… I really… I mean…” he could not even finish the sentence, a red veil standing in front of his eyes, his hand seizing with unworldly strength the shoulder of the Witch.

Artia screamed as they took off, feeling the power of the Xalious tree threatening to do what it did before to her as well Linn. Safely in the air she shoved the leafs into her bag, 'Don't drop me..don't drop me.' She recites within her thoughts, trusting him to hold her and fly them safely to the next destination. A hand held to one of his long arms, the other hand holding tight to the bag they had. Upon landing at the gate to the dragon graveyard, decorated in dragon bones. Roars of sick dragons beyond the gate ready for the after life, waiting to die but if saw something other then dragon would likely attack wanting to drag another life down with them. More so a snack for the travel, feeling him lean against Artia she looked up to him. Was he scared? What happen to the avian to cause fear like this? The squeeze to the shoulder was increasing strength quickly starting to hurt, "Ouch! You can let go of me now. We need to get in there find any dragon scale that can fit into my bag, a young dragon scale works. Or an egg, an egg would have a baby dragon within that the scales didn't fully mature to full strength of armor." Turning around she look into his optics, "Thamalys, if you want your wings done, we need to go in.”

Thamalys nodded, licking his lips, trying to muster the very little courage he could. He spent quite some moments, listing the very few he hold dear, at least those he could remember after that dire day on the Cliff. Their faces, their kindness, did shove away the darkness, at least for now, a glowing barrier of golden barbs building into his mind, to contrast the darkness of the past. He could feel the mad dragon ranting somewhere in the deepest pits of his mind, his wretched will boosted by all those death and the many of his kin surging to help his bloody magic. || What do we say to the Gods of Death, you silly bird?|| he thought he heard whispering in the cold air, his teeth clenching in an expression of pure pain. “Not today…” some wise voice answered in return within his head. Hence, he eventually let go of Artia’s shoulder. “Oh. So sorry…” he commented, hastily retracting his whole arm, “… you are right, there is no other way. Let’s… let’s see whether we can find that scale, then.” He raised his right hand, a globe of blue flames immediately coming into life. Armed with that fiery light, the Avian would have set foot into the yard, hoping that the Witch would have swiftly followed. Those impossibly long bones seemed to stare at the two of them… but even more than the sight of those, it was the stench that really got to the Blue. “What… what is this reek?” he muttered, a powerful smell of what seemed to be rotten meat increasingly saturating his senses. Two more strides only, and the mystery would have been solved already. The carcasses of not one, but two dragons indeed, embraced in a last, deadly hold, perched from an immense mass of old bones. One of them had his fangs across the neck of the other, which in turn seemed to have gutted his foe with a single jab of his claws. The Blue, aghast, froze in awe, the blue flame in his hand flickering and dying soon after, a pitch black darkness filling the silence.

Artia followed him closely, he was scared doing her best to add comfort to the winged giant like elf. Relief to have her shoulder back, but knew there would be a bruise there forming as they moved. The smell touched her nose, knowing fully what it would be. “That is death, you are smelling dragon corpses. They come here to die, and move on to the after life. Some are grumpy and want to end other dragons before they pass.” She points out the first example, “Like those too, as you see even in death they craved to make another suffer. Not all dragons are that way, my first love was a red dragon. But the curse I was under caused us to lose our twins, he forgot all about me. Insulted me, and flew away to find a dragon as a mate because he would never take a human for a mate. He was also my trainer with a bow and arrow, obviously never finished.” When the Avian froze, her hand came up to his cheek. “Thamalys, this is not the time or place to stop. Our scent has already been carried in the winds to the dragons we hear roaring and dying. They will be coming soon, we need to move fast or we will end up a snack. Or me, since you can fly away, I am risking my life here. So keep up, okay?” With that she left his side, staying low to the ground as she searched. Quickly she climbed into a skull of one of the long dead dragons, “Thamalys, hide.” She called out, as one of the dragons did catch their scent, crawling on its belly looking for them. “If I knew bone would work, we be gone by now. Scan the area see if you see anything we can grab, then leave.”

Thamalys, possibly thanks to the genuine truth within the Wicth’s words, regained his usual stance, once more calling for a flame to light the way, up those mighty pile of bones. He listened to the tale of the Witch not without some sorrow - Artia had so much suffering to deal with already, he could afford to be weak, now, even in there where an awful number of those much feared creatures lurked in the shadows. Artia’s warning came not a second too soon, the Avian being in plain light - and a rather easy mark to be spotted indeed. In a split second, the flame was gone once more, and the Blue would have squatted behind the massive shapes of yet another scaly one, this particular sample having being apparently pierced by many arrows, most of them wholly made by a strange, metallic material he knew not. The living one was crawling closer, now, possibly having picked up the flowery blend of scents that the Witch boasted. On his four, the beast started climbing the pile toward Artia’s refuge, sniffing, growling, his claws stomping the bones like hammers on toothpicks. He must have not been the smartest amongst his kin, though, a dull glow shimmering in the darkness from those dumb eyes, the fat creature taking far too long to move across the graveyard for being a dragon indeed. And yet, he was getting closer - and the Spellblade would have not let it find the Witch. Plus, he did need a scale after all. In perfect silence, he snatched one of those queer arrows, easily detaching it from the rotten meat of the dead one. In a single move, then, he unfurled his wings, a faint blue glow on his skin lighting his descent toward the back of the dragon, a dive that ended with the Avian directed with that pointy weapon right at the base of the tail of the beast. A low hiss only preceded the impact, the - evidently - enchanted metal easily ripping of a good handful of flesh - and scales! - from the tail of the fat dragon. Who, in any case, was not happy at all about a pesky bird snatching his armour. He turned in a flurry of fangs, forgetting in an instant the hidden Witch. “How - dare - you, you tiny piece of dead meat?” he cried in a awfully loud voice, dripping evil within every word. The Blue, caught off balance, would still have stood, some paces only away from the charging mass of the dragon, the fear in his eyes gone like snow in the summer, a deadly expression of righteous fury carved in that bony face, in one hand holding some bloody scales, in the other one summoning already a mighty gush of blue flames.

Artia tucked to the dragon skull she hid in, feeling the ground shaking with each movement drawing the dragon closer. She was ready to cast a spell if need, right as her mind found one, the sight of blue catch her attention. What was he doing? She almost came out of hiding but, she watched on. He was going for it, for a scale. Sending the arrow into the dragons, getting what they needed for the spell. Watching the dragon turn to attack Thamalys, she could not let him end like this. Climbing out, wrapping the bag tightly around her waist almost making it hard for her to breath, knowing soon they would end flying away. The rush of flight could threaten to leave the bag behind, but the knot would keep it from happening. “Thamalys, fly! Fly you stupid bird!” She was running towards the dragon, sliding to a stop into a crouching position. By now her scent had to have caught the angry dragon, a human. Easy kill and meals to the evil dragon, who now smiled at the human showing herself. “I’d rather the easier one of you two. I will come back to you.” The dragon growled out, acid dripping from its jaws. Artia dug her hands into the dirt, calling out to the dead flora that once thrived in the land before the dragon’s poisoned it with their deaths. “I call upon the dark, I call upon the death, I ask the dead to rise and aid your witch of the woods. I call upon thee to help me.” With her words a long dead vine stretched out of the ground, a single thorn pointed up to her asking for an offering. Looking at the dragon as it charged to her, dragging her palms along the undead vine. The witch’es blood making the entire vine ooze with crimson, drinking in her offering of blood. The ground under the dragon quakes, splitting as vines shot upward threatening to tie the dragon down. The Dragon froze, looking afraid, “You…the dark one.” He went to turn and hide from Artia, but it was to late as the vines shot upwards into the sky, falling back down upon the dragon pinning it to the ground. The vines digging into the dragon’s form drinking its blood from the creature, causing shrieks of pains as it was bleed. The witch’s eyes blue changed to crimson, with no pupils. Raising her bleeding palm upwards, squeezing into a fist. “Thamalys..” She needed to leave before the darkness inside her enjoy this too much.

Thamalys was ready to unleash the whole extent of his magic upon the dragon, possibly getting devoured at the very same time - that is, before the Witch called upon some power he did not even want to know about, something darker than corruption making his way from soil to vine, the scarlet notes in Artia’s eyes culminating in a whole pool of crimson the moment the dragon found his righteous match, brutally impaled on a bed of bones of his own very kin. The Spellblade would have just sit and embarked into a lengthy conversion about where exactly that dreadful piece of magic came from - but the horrific look into the Witch’s eyes made him opt for a different decision. For the moment willing to accept the darkness evidently lurking in and within the read headed - but an explanation he would have demanded soon enough! - the Blue leaped into the air with a single, immense swooping motion of his ivory wings, soaring in an instant upon the suffering mass of the dragon. His hands already dripping with liquid blue fire, he would not have shown any sort of mercy for the wretched creature - payback time, eventually! He was openly laughing, golden streaks surfacing in those solid blue eyes, a mighty feeling of revenge annihilating everything else. “So much for your Gods, Black One…” he whispered before a colossal stripe of blue flames dived upon the scaly one, the whole of him setting ablaze, his screams doubling in volume, a pain with no name, no matter how well deserved. Across what could be now righteously considered as a proper battlefield, still stood the witch, cruel and beautiful, her figure glimmering in the fire. Thus, the Avian darted toward her, in a elegant twist - almost - landing beside her, only to grab her in his arms and spiralling a whole turn, never ever stopping mid air even once, just in a single, impossibly graceful move collecting the Witch and glide away, leaving the dragon pinned and ablaze, soaring above the awful mass of bones. Yes, he still held in his left hand some scales, the heat of the flames not enough to melt them - yet. “You will own me an explanation, Witch…” he told the read headed one while bursting out the sodding place, the exhilarating feeling of the Wind upon his skin almost washing away already the dreadful memory of the graveyard.

Artia || The once dark witch had to have a minor surface, the bridge keeping her dark desires away slowly burning away the longer it took for him to get to her. A smile appeared along her lips, with a tilt of her head, wind breezing through became stronger. “Thamalys.” She whispered, almost a plea to get her out of her. Right as he attacked, her other hand raised up as soon as they hit high in the air the dragons was ripped into pieces from the vines digging in enough. Panting as the crimson hue in her eyes left, leaving behind her gentle blue. Curling against his chest, her body shaking as she mumbles. “Not me, not me not me now. Not me.” She squeezed her eyes shut until she heard the avian’s voice. Looking up to him, “I will, but we are safe now. We do not need to go to the Larket graveyard now, just back to the ranch. I snagged a human skull while we were there, there was definitely too many of those about. To my home please, Thamalys.” Her form shuddered, as if cold, but in truth she was try to put the darkness back in the lock from where she let it come out.

Thamalys flew in silence, his arms tired and almost numb in fact when they eventually reached the Ranch. He had all the time in Hollow to prepare a proper landing, and yet he found he did not have the energy for it. He just glided, slowly losing height till the point where he felt confident in letting go of the Witch, not before a gentle warning would have been issued “let go of everything you have in your hands, you are going to need them I fear, we are still going fast enough…”. Soon after, he himself impacted with the hard soil of the clearing just in front of the foyer’s entrance, managing to fold his wings properly but unfortunately with still to much momentum as a whole. He fell and start rolling, so tired he was he did not truly cared, his race ending right at the doorstep. Panting loudly, he would have slowly raised on his feet, massaging his ankles and calfs, aloud hiss exhaling and immediately after turning toward where the Witch should have now be - more or less - safely landed.

Larket: Artia’s Ranch - Silver Clad

Artia felt better by the time they got to Larket, relief. She was home, her home, not the mayor’s house. With his words, she went to untie the bag from her waist. Nodding ready to be freed from his grasp, once she was dropped she remembered to bring herself to land feet first. Knees bent as she landed, to roll along the ground. Standing with a slight limp, she moved to pick everything back up. Moving up to him, offering a hand to help the avian to his feet if still upon the ground, if not she would had opened her fixed front door. Straight into the kitchen to lay out everything they collected, the soil from enchantment, two leafs from xalious tree, Thamalys had the scales, she gathered the human skull from the bag. Split from the land, but it was do. Ramagaing through her cabinets to get the right size cauldron out, adding everything inside it so the potion could be made. “Drop what you have from the dragon in, please.” Next she would add an ivory candle matching the color of his wings to burn as it was placed upon the human skull. Luckily she had a chicken foot in her cabinet, or she would have to go back out. “Go ahead and grab you some food, it will take about fifteen minutes to brew.”

Thamalys followed the Witch into the kitchen, welcoming the familiar collection of spicy scents. He felt impossibly tired, a lot of flying he had piled up, not to mention the close encounter with the dragon. He dropped the still bloodied scales of the latter into the fat pot, but did not seconded Artia’s latest suggestion, grabbing instead a chair a heaving sitting - sprawling - on it, his head burying in both his hands, breathing softly. Still with his eyes closed, a curtain of pearly white braids hiding his face, he would asked, as he needed to know. “Artia. Who - are - you. That magic I witnessed in the graveyard… the look into your eyes… I hardy recognised the kindhearted landlady that offered my fish and wine, the mother of Ava, the one who sacrificed such a hefty portion of her herbal stashes for the guild. A part of me feared you. Another one…” he added, a deep voice making his way into the room, the head of the Blue raising, his gaze fixed upon the slender figure near by, “… loathed you. Your craft reeked of evil, and I could have sweated you were enjoying that awful display of rotten power. Is that who you really are? Is that the sort of art that is going into that potion?” he inquired, his left hand pointing toward the cauldron. “If that is the case, I shall walk out that very door - and return with the Guard no less!” he concluded within clenched teeth, totally neglecting to mention the fact that the Witch basically saved his life in the graveyard. Such was his hatred for evil… || and yet, you would be surprised to find what is hidden into your very self, silly bird || remarked the Black One, now more than ever alive and kicking.

Artia froze mixing the contents in the cauldron turning around to face him, “I am me, I am still Artia, Apothecary and council lady of Larket. “ She sighed, does she trust him with something that Draiman had sensed inside of her and wanted to raise to the surface permeant. Who else dark once knew of what she kept locked away wouldn’t try to bring it out; she worked so hard to put that away. Lost a love one even because they couldn’t handle her dark side, that moment when the man that caused her to be a widow helped her to be who she wanted to me…her oath the day her daughter was born. Everything she did to keep herself from slipping, then today she almost slipped to help save her friend. “I am not adding any of that darkness into this cauldron, Thamalys, what you saw was a friend desperate to save her winged friend. And the cost was a strike on my soul, what you saw was a sample of who I use to be before a man came into my life and helped me push it away. The dragon wasn’t ill enough for one of us to get out alive; the dark side of me enjoyed what I did. While the Artia you see now, weeps, if I hadn’t lost my ability I would just been able to tie it down. I risked all the work I have done, to save us.” She slammed the wooden spoon on the counter, “I am trying to help you, and you threaten to bring the guard upon me. It is a daily struggle to not cave into desires of death. I never wanted to let it slip, or even ever use my dark magic again. Forgive me for using it, but I was scared you would be killed.”

Thamalys remained silent for the whole duration of that speech. He knew nothing of himself, and was just coming to realise how cumbersome the Witch’s past should have been. The obvious stroke him squarely, eventually - she did save him, no matter what sort of dark magic she used. “No…” he would have said in return, raising and moving toward the steaming pot, grabbing the ladle himself and slowly carrying on with the task the red headed interrupted - possibly because of that selfish accusation of his. Stirring the mixture, his gaze nails on the cauldron only, he would have eventually continued. “… I am the one who shall beg forgiveness. You saved me - by means of what sort of craft… I do not care, as long as that darkness is kept far away from the gentle being you are. The Wind knows what lurks inside of me as well… || the Wind and I, o’ Lost One…” chuckled the Black, not quite determined to let him go for good, today. “Please, forget those words I uttered out of fear, and tiredness. I will never dare to voiced them again, on my honour.” He stood silent for a little while, before asking with an only slightly lighter tone, indicating the boiling mix, “isn’t this one supposed to be ready already?”

Artia hearing him say no, caused her heart to drop. She risked losing herself in that graveyard, and now the dark seed was threatening to bloom inside again. Worked so hard to shove it down, but it was woken but only a slight. When he moved forward she expected to be scolded again, but to her surprise he continued stirring the concoction. His words made her look back to his form, “Trust me, I do not want to ever use that craft like that again to claim someone’s life even if it deserved it. We stole that dragon’s life before it was its time, that will haunt my dreams for a week if that. Now you saw why I chuckled at our first meeting at calling me kind, my past is bloody. Each encounter with me, meant you would die. The fact that dragon knew who I was, worries me. But he is now dead, so I guess I am safe. You need to understand to never, and I mean ever mention the magic I used tonight. One dark being already knows, and he has tried to break me.” She stood beside him, offering her arm a pat, “No need to ask for forgiveness, you always are forgiven with me.” Standing in silence until he spoke again, “You need to blow the candle out, add a drop of your blood into the mix. Then we shall be ready. I am going into the living room to get the setting ready. Bring that with you and a towel to rest it on.” Once she got into the living room, she would be laying out quartz crystals in a circle, lighting a few candles after stones were placed. “I need the cauldron in middle of the circle, as well yourself. Stand with your wings above it, so the steam will run along the feathers. Last chance to leave, I can’t take back what is done.”

Thamalys grinned, already moving toward the candle. “Leave? We have stolen from pesky pixies, ancient trees and mighty dragons just for the sake of of create this rather demanding mixture… how can I be so stupid to bow out? No, with your permission, we shall go ahead with it…”. He got hold of a knife, one to be used for dining, in fact, blowing the candle soon after and carving a bloody mark on the palm of his right hand, squeezing some droplets into the cauldron. In they went, sizzling happily, the Avian taking some time to seal the cut with a faint gush of blue flames, and - not least - to wash the knife and put it back in to his righteous place. Then, he simply followed the Witch instructions, stepping into the circle and letting the murky steam engulf each and every single feather hanging from his colossal wings.

Artia didn’t need her other normal tools as this was a potion based enchantment, no evil needed to be chased off or need to create a positive aura about the living room. “Glad to know how brave you are Thamalys, as your wings will feel like I am pouring metal upon them. If hurt afterwards I can ease that pain with a drink or a spell for minor amount of time of relief.” With that, she held her hands out to her side, pointing fingers connecting with her thumb. A soft hum leaving her body, “In this moment, strength I need to find, to inspire a strength of shields. A safe guide and support flow from me to Thamayls here. I call upon the higher powers that be, let this spell be heard so that the strong will not fall short.” As her voice stopped the steam increased swirling and weaving in between each feather. That was once white soon changed as the liquid from the cauldron rose up, having a silver metallic gleam to it. Moving her hands together, then palms out towards the wings. “Cast circle, call quarters, look into his wings. Imagine a shield of fire protecting thee.” She paused as all the liquid from the cauldron was now spreading along the wings, “Weave it well, weave it highter, weave it now of shining flame. None shall come to hurt or maim, none shall pass this silver gleam, none shall pass. No! None at all!” Dropping her hands to her sides, she chants her opening phrase, sealing the spell. “In this moment, strength I need to find, to inspire a strength of shields. A safe guide and support flow from me to Thamayls here. I call upon the higher powers that be, let this spell be heard so that the strong will not fall short.” When spoke, the quartz crystals shattered into many tiny shards as the spell took hold of the Avian’s wings.

Thamalys witnessed in awe the powerful magic of the Witch unfolding. Despite her warning, he would have not closed his eyes, or clenched his teeth, or in general braced himself. He knew every shade of pain, and learned to embrace it with a rather elegant poise. But behind blue eyes, the Avian felt like dying, the moment the crystals exploded and the enchantment eventually soaked into his feathers. It was like a countless number of scorpions decided to simultaneously sting the root of each and every feather, but without the numbness afterwards, just the pain per se. He opened his lips a tiny bit, a silent scream protruding into the room, sensing a novel weight making his way through his wings. The whole of them hitched like pure hell, the now silver-clad feathers clinking against each other with an harmonious - if metallic - sounds, much like that of a waterfall insisting on a rock. He kneeled, partly because of the weight, chiefly because of the pain. He did close his eyes as well, just letting go of that facade. “That… that was not pleasant at all…” he noted, presently raising to his feet and - as much as the extent of the living room would have permitted - outstretching his now silvery wings, looking at them with a bewitched - how apt - expression solidly painted on his face. He knew he could have never leaped into the air as easily as before. “So heavy… I feel like a giant is pushing me on the ground… but then, I guessed it worked? And… they are silvery, now!” whether he was delighted or not, hard to tell, but the sight of those huge shiny curtains was quite something in any case. “Well… thank you, Artia. You went so far to make this possible… I am indebted to you now more than ever. Thank you…” he would have just repeated, still looking at his wings, in awe.

Artia watched as the avian knelt, she was worried his wings might be too heavy. But in hopes of more muscle development they would feel lighter in time, the sound of the metallic like feather rubbing on the other was bliss to her ears. “I warned you…its not pleasant changing oneself ever. But with proper training a change can be made with joy.” Backing up as the avian stretched out his wings, smiling at how beautiful they were, not believing it possible till now. “It worked, they are flame proof now, and can break a sword if one tries.” A pause, “Is this you wanted? The color..it was part of the spell, I couldn’t help with that. I hope all is okay? Are you okay, Thamalys? I’d do anything for my friend.” She offered a soft smile, even if he wasn’t looking. “But, we both need to rest. I am worn out from magic use and travel; you are welcome to use the couch. If here in the morning I will prepare breakfast.”

Thamalys nodded, swiftly furling his brand new wings with a merry clinking of feathery metal. “No, this is beyond any expectation I could have possibly come up with… oh, I will be okay. I’ll have to learn how to deal with them, but time, that I don’t lack. Well…” he pointed out soon after, some steps moving already toward the tempting, soft shapes of the sofa, “… I have some errands for the Guild to be taken care of… but I will accept your offer till the dawn at least - I am just too tired to even thinking about getting back to the city.” So he said, eventually throwing himself on the pillows, some of them - ops - scratching with the rather sharp edges of his silvery wings. Yes, he had much to learn about the, He used to knock things over with them, but that would have had to change, for the safety of the healers as a minimum. He curled into a sort of cocoon, closing his eyes and saluting quickly enough, already half asleep despite the throbbing numbness spreading fast from feathers to shoulders. “Till tomorrow, then… thank you… tha…” and that was it, his breath already steadying into the pattern of those deep within their dreams, most likely populated in his case, by creeping vines and fat dragons.

This RP is linked to: RP:Country Dinner