Sapphire Eyes and Icy Scales

[-Luthe]

The blur was torn away, leaving Elyon standing ten meters from the blue haired man with the backdrop of snow and crags where even snow couldn't fall at the very top of the rocky peak. Somewhere in dark world, where things were inhospitable and normal creatures could not survive for long, that was where they stood. The starkness of the temperature change made his scales shrink and the skin beneath them crawl uncomfortably. He gasped for breath when he found that there was little to be had. The icy air scorched his lungs and he had to summon breath within him to keep from dropping into an immediate collapse in the deep, dense snow.

The rune brightly glowing on the man's face gave him an object to focus on in painfully frigid conditions. He felt ice building up on his slim body as his body only just began to try and regulate.

[-Darshe]

(This post is going to look a little odd at first. Took me awhile to decide how i wanted to handle this...)

Darshe had his hands raised reflexively trying to shield himself from Freya's ice breath, conjuring null magic by similarly reflexive response, it hardly mattered though for he knew the other strikes were coming right when he realized she had switched his position with hers putting him between her and Nedrah....but the strikes never came. Why didn't they come?

In the span where the strikes should've been a number of thoughts occurred to him, thoughts that he couldn't even begin to understand where the had come from, they simply flowed out all at once as he lost sense of the world around him.

She tried to kill me.. the thought was followed by a stream of memories, times he'd saved her, come to her aid, times she'd helped him. I loved her.... or at least he believed he did. It occurred to him then something was missing. she never loved me.... He had not one memory of her saying the words, her actions had seemingly been enough but in hindsight it felt more like he had been a useful tool that was now discarded.

No that wasn't right. It couldn't have been right. But the hate in her eyes, the anger...

Something caught his attention briefly a soft impact, hardly the strike he had been expecting. He had resolved to take the blows as best he could and if need be take her down with him. But it hadn't come to that. Someone or something had intervened. That's why he had never been struck....it had happened so quickly and he had been so distracted with his own thoughts he didn't even realize he'd been moved. How long had he been here? The biting cold of the mountaintop was more severe than even the frost Freya had conjured. He realized he must've been here for awhile now, as despite being pretty well prepared for cold conditions he still felt the chill as plainly as if he were naked in the breeze.

As he thought about it he realized that earlier when he began to lose sense of the world around him was when he was being moved, the thoughts had been during transit and the soft thump was him landing on the mountain, he was on his hands and knees and for a moment he stayed like that, his hands balled into fists and slammed into the ground "What was I supposed to do?!" He wailed in frustration to no one as he pushed himself up so he was sitting simply on his knees. gazing skyward and only now seeing his surroundings and realizing he wasn't alone. He turned his head to the new face "Who......or rather what......are you? How......did I get here?" Air, he soon realized was a precious commodity up here and perhaps using it on talking wasn't the best idea.

(Edit:It occurred to me that if he's still considered silenced he wouldn't be able to speak....so just assume he's flailing about yelling but no words coming out.....though for the sake of this post making sense I'll leave the words in so you can tell what he's supposed to be saying...Also assume he hasn't yet realized the mark.)

[-Luthe]

(OOC: It's no bigs. The mark was more for security reasons, what with preventing instant teleporting and other such obtuseness. "Silence" was the easiest way to describe it without going into drolling detail.)

With conflict came respect, and fear - that was the way of the human world. Kings sat on thrones because they instilled these emotions in the "civil" masses beneath them. They fought each other, demanded, and did as they pleased. Only human hands would stop them, after all. Only human hands turned against them in their conquest.

This was the relationship of man to man. But this was not the way of men to dragons.

There was a responsibility that each creature had to careful inspect, inquire to, ascertain, and denote to themselves until it was pointed in their minds exactly which, if any dragon claimed the lands and all the people in it. That is, is the distant past, a human would enter a realm and grovel, begging the name of the master dragon who owned the sky, earth, and water of which he was about to partake.

Dragons were the keepers of the world, and housecarl to the gods who first placed all things upon the earth. As heirs to all power and respect to be had by all the mortal races, dragons reserved the right to protect what was theirs. It was also a dragon's mirror role to act as protector. When speaking of the woman Freya and her hatchlings, or even the bull-headed Ken, it was a sacred right that he should ensure their safety. No other dragons ruled the forests surrounding Moun, and in soothe no dragon ruled any place excepting the deranged cousins of Recel and the serpent beat of Mount Volcano. Plainly said, he care little for their pessimistic, dirty little lives, but as the only regent dragon lord of virtually every domain he crossed, Elyon claimed all rights to people and things around him. To violate the sanctity of those rights was criminal. Humans would have their spats, but in this case he sought to intervene and ensure the safety of his assets.



But the dragon was tired. The temperature drained life his through his feet, like the cold stone and ice of the planet was feeding from him. He spent much energy to move them both here. Elyon was fearful that he would suffer some poor fate if he stayed much longer. He clenched his teeth and dispelled the seal with a command, hissed between his fangs. The mark on the man's face fell away into golden flakes that were also devoured by the ancient hunger of this place.

The dragon turned and coughed a second word - Agz. He took from flesh to scale and skin and enormous bone, and a real dragon appeared from his slim body. The size would hold the heat of breath, and the thick hide would protect from some of the elements he'd have to endure on the long trip down the mountain.

He said nothing, but began to descend the peak one large footfall after the other. He wrapped his wings tightly around himself, and shivered in the bitter cold. As far as he knew, that was the end of it. This man owed him no trespass, and nor he to him. To be stranded was as good as death - punishment for encroaching on his property.'

(OOC: Elyon shares some characteristics with pack animals in that he apparently claims people and places as his own. I learned something.)

[-Darshe]

Ignored. Well that was irritating. Darshe teleported in front of the dragon. "Hey I'm talkin to you here." He paused for a moment to gather enough breath for the rest of his rant. "You at least owe me an explaination as to why you've brought me here.....wherever here is." He did in fact at least need to know where he was......It would be rather difficult to find his way to anywhere else important without knowing where he was starting from. More importantly he was curious why the hell this particular dragon seemed to have taken an interest in anything. Dragons didn't move their big scaly hides unless the world was about to end or something similarly disastrous.

Yet here he was. Why Darshe thought teleporting in front of him was a good idea is anyone's guess. It's not as if he were much of a physical obstacle to a dragon's movement yet there he was stubbornly demanding attention and information.


(Kinda need darshe to at least know where he is so I can properly move him somewhere.....like nearby necronus.....Oh I'm sure they'll love him there.)

[-Luthe]

(OOC: Now your good old boy Luthe is not an overly intelligent human being, but these typos are playing up my exciting brain impediment more robustly than I can actually be given credit for. Honestly, I see the differences between obscure word usage (my hobby) and tried and true unintelligible grammar ("had to careful inspect"?). I'm sorry that you have to read this junk.)

"So your heart would become cold and stop beating." A very simple answer. Metaphorically true? Maybe for Darshe. Elyon had no idea the history that the blue-haired man had with anyone. They had never met. They might not ever meet again. Like he really cared about the plight of one stranger to whom he owed no allegiance. It was a bother that the little creature kept hopping around to get in his way. It was almost high time Elyon just stepped on him.

Honest to goodness, his only solid idea when he whisked them both across the world was that Moun needed to be defended, and that someone was encroaching on his humans, Freya and Ken. There wasn't a lot of excess baggage. He had also been very cranky when he woke up from his afternoon sleep. It should be known to all the mortal races that one would wake a dragon only at one's own risk.

He shrugged and stomed his foot, and let out a low grumble. Impatience was rising in his tone, deep like coal dredged up from a gravel pit. The breath he released was warm, not that he meant to save this man. Nothing like that. Elyon was too tired to fight the coincidence of exuding some of his heat at him with every long noisy exhale.

"Damaris will be harsh to you, but much less than I if you don't move from my path, soft skin."

[-Darshe]

(OOC:Blah....Blah.........and more blah.........I was hoping some better way of doing what I wanted to do would present itself but I've been having trouble sorting out how Darshe should be behaving right now, which makes writing posts exponentially harder. So...most of this......actually almost all of it is introspective as I try to find some footing so to speak.)



He stared for a moment before speaking. "If that was what you wanted....you could have just left me there." He turned from the dragon....man.........whatever. He could think of no reason for the intervention other than some connection between Freya and this shape shifting creature. Yet found he didn't care. There was only a numb feeling in him right now, like the biting cold sinking into his body. Try as he might to feel....something. The emotions just wouldn't come.

Normally he'd have been angry, angry at Freya, angry at the dragon thing for moving him, angry.....at well....everything. He would've lashed out and went looking for Freya. But instead he just...........didn't care. He was so tired of it all repeating, over and over again. Freya pushing him further along her self written tragedy story. It was supposed to be over....they were supposed to be past that. He was supposed to be focusing on his own problems so his could finally find the time to take Freya somewhere nice. Now.......all that was out the window.

Her vicious self inflicted circle had begun anew again and this time he found he wanted no part of it. Not this time. But what did that leave him with? He had made Freya his world, well...most of it. Freya had always come first, whatever problem she had he always dropped everything and went running to fix it and that had left no time for anything else. It was a painful realization. That misguided faith, had caused him to overlook countless things she'd done. All in the name of making things work between them when they never could have in the first place.

Unconsciously, he gripped his sword, a common gesture of comfort for a warrior in a time of uncertainty, however here he had a problem he could not slice. No foe he could cut down. It was like fighting ghosts. Nay, worse than that even against ghosts he had his magic. Yet no spell he knew of could fix this.

The dragon was almost totally forgotten, He shuddered though whether it was from the cold or his own train of thought even he couldn't say. It seemed to bring him out of his thoughts though at least for a little while, as he spoke again "I've forgotten my manners." he paused as if considering whether he really should go on or not before finishing "I am Darshia Callisto. I doubt we will meet again. but it would be improper to leave without giving my name." He turned and started walking, despite that flight would've been faster, he needed the extra time to think. Not that he had anywhere in particular to go anyway.