middaeg | The world outside had its own rules [open]

Who: Asra Alnazar and who ever feels like joining him
When: Throughout July
Where: Various locations
What: Wandering Magician gonna wander in the Wilde and do quests (Cartography and Lucky Ingredients)
Warnings: None currently

A journey begins with a single step
It's almost midnight when Asra set out from the Western Residential District, where he'd made a bed for the night to avoid the snow and cold that blanketed much of the rest of the city. The heat was never a bother for him and Faust needed it, so he spent quite a bit of time there lately.

Right now though, he had the white and lavender python tucked securely under his scarf, a hat with a long, elegant feather topping the outfit off. He'd packed what little he expected he needed for his journey in a brown satchel that swung by his side as he walked through the near-empty streets, the sound of his footsteps sometimes the loudest noise around. He purposefully chose the emptier streets, habitually wanting to avoid attention as he left the city, but sometimes it seemed that fate had other plans. Another set of footsteps drew his attention and his gaze shifted until he noticed the other figure in the street.

"A good night for a journey," he said quietly by way of greeting. "Are you leaving too?"

---

Riddle me this
It was barely morning, the light only just beginning to filter through the trees and dapple the ground in golds and greens. It seemed to almost gild the few feathers in Asra's hand as he stood still as a statue in front of a huge creature that seems part bird and part lynx, his face tipped up to meet its eyes fearlessly.

The moment stretched out, then he spoke.

"If you break me, i do not stop working. If you touch me, I may be snared. If you lose me, nothing will matter. What am I?"

The adar llwch gwin shifted and fluffed its wings before settling again. "Your heart."

Asra nodded and waited as the next riddle came. This was starting to worry him a little, he wasn't quite certain what would happen if he couldn't answer.

"Marking mortal privation, when firmly in place. An enduring summation, inscribed in my face. What am I?" the creature asked, and Asra blinked paling a little. He glanced back at his companion and lowered his voice.

"Are you any good at riddles?"

---
Here in the forest, dark and deep...
He was deeper in the forest now, curiosity pushing him on further, and although Asra was aware of the danger, he was certain that he could manage it. Any protests raised by travelling companions were met with remarks that he'd encountered worse than a dark forest before, but that they were welcome to turn back if they liked.

He was perhaps pushing himself further than strictly necessary, considering he'd come out here to gather herbs and materials, but Asra was stubborn and continued pushing on until he became aware that there was a strange, sickly sweet scent to the air. The plants around them seemed larger, a deeper green than before, and Asra opened his mouth to suggest that maybe it would be time to turn back after all, when he found himself staring at pair of shining, white eyes that seemed to stare at him from a pitch black form.

"What... is that..."

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Pain sent stars dancing across his eyes as Asra rolled over, forcing himself to ignore the sharp pain that shot through his side and back. For a moment he thought he'd screamed from it, but the sound came again and he realised it was Symon, someone he hadn't expected to make a sound like that. Sharp and pained and almost as animalistic as the things attacking them.

His fear hardened then and Asra barely thought as he dug his fingers into his own wound to soak them in blood, his lips moving in an instinctive chant as he sunk blood-soaked fingers into the earth. It parted like butter and a hand of earth and mud rose from behind the creature. Twisted roots like the claws that caught in Symon's flesh speared into the beast's form, the giant hand wrapping around it as it snarled and writhed and tore at its prey.

Asra half rose to his hands and knees, one hand still buried in the earth, his eyes seeming to shine with an inhuman light and his mouth twisting into a silent snarl as the muscles in his arm clenched and the giant hand began to squeeze.

There was a crunching, horrible sound that seemed to echo through the air and he felt a wet, copper trail start from his nose, but still the giant fist tightened its grip. Stone and mud and root an inexorable force that continued to press in tighter and tighter, Asra apparently past caring how far this was going... or how close Symon might be to it all.

Dirt spattered over Symon's face at the earth rose around his enemy, clenching about the beast that had been roaring in his face, its long, gleaming teeth inches from his face.

Asra. The name was like a clarion bell in his mind bright eyes, secrets, what's behind that smile-, his thoughts edged in fire, the chain reaction of firing thoughts twisted together. His head lolled to the side, and so he was party to that look in the man's face. The fury that etched handsome features, that twisted them into something different, something transcendent, something perfect. He felt struck, like an arrow to the breast, watching as agony rippled through him.

Beautiful.

But his pain hazed admiration was yanked away as those giant earthen fingers gripped around the dirt, and perforce Symon as well. His knife was still in his hand, and with the beast understandably distracted, he rammed the blade into the joint where claw met bone, and twisted, shearing through tendon, separating the claw. It gave him the chance to scramble out from under the creature, its claw still embedded in his shoulder. He leaned back, bloody and panting and between one breath and the next, the thing was crushed into a bloody, gory pulp, viscera and bits of bone raining down on him.

It was only as the twitching of the creature's form faded that Asra finally let the spell end, the mangled corpse dropping like the husk of a crushed fruit from the earthen hand. His head was spinning from exertion and he could taste blood that he wasn't certain if the blow the monster had inflicted had caused or his own spellwork had. A large part of him desperately wanted to just lay back down on the ground and try to catch his breath as much as he could through the pain and his spinning head, but he couldn't ignore how close Symon had been to everything. How much worse he might be hurt than Asra himself.

He shoved himself to his feet and stumbled over to where Symon was lying, collapsing more than kneeling by his form. There was blood everywhere, as much the creatures' as Symon's, and his hands hovered over the other man uncertainly.

"I don't know if I can heal this much," he gasped, staring at the claw still buried in Symon's shoulder. "And we can't stay here."

Symon had touched the claw still embedded in his shoulder and was rewarded with cables of pain shuddering through him. Not that he should take it out; he didn't fancy bleeding to death on the forest floor.

Lyr would kill me.

His lips puffed around a breath of amusement; it was hilarious after all.

"I can hang on a bit more. I kept Jasper hobbled outside the forest," He didn't think he could help Asra look for herbs on horseback after all, "We can ride her back, and Lyr can help us." He felt dizzy, but slowly, he managed to get up, to stand, swaying before the mage. "We need to move."

"Don't remove it," Asra said, apparently unnecessarily but with the mess they were both in, he wasn't certain if either of them were thinking as well as they should right now.

He was somewhat taken aback as Symon managed a huff of amusement, then his own mouth twisted into a bloody smile. "This is the last thing you should be finding funny," he huffed, standing slowly and reaching out to help brace Symon, offering his shoulder to support him. He wasn't much steadier himself, but between the two of them, they managed to make it back to the horse.

"Can you ride?"

Symon was a cavalier, he'd have to be close to dying to be unable to ride.

"Yeah." Pain cut the edges of his words short. Jasper, well trained not to shy at the smell of blood instead whickered softly, lipping at his pale hair. He raised a hand, fingers spreading over her heavy jaw, holding her close for a moment. "She can carry you too, just ride behind me." He got a foot in the stirrup and swung himself up with his good hand, slumping in the saddle for a moment, the pain making his vision spark. But after a moment, he offered his uninjured hand to Asra. "C'mon. Lyr will patch us up."

Asra nodded, taking a moment to lean against the side of the horse as well and appreciating how well trained she must be not to panic at the smell of blood in the air. His vision still swam at any sudden movements, but he looked up sharply all the same, struggling to focus on Symon's face as the other man slumped in the saddle. He was relieved to see him still conscious, although he knew if need be he could take them both back to Lyr with Jasper's help.

Wincing at the way his own chest ached, Asra took the offered hand and swung up behind Symon, a grunt of pain leaving him as he settled behind the other man. His head dropped to brush lightly against the back of Symon's neck as he closed his eyes and waited for his vision to stop shifting.

"Lyr is going to kill me for this," he huffed, amusement in his voice mixing with pain. "The one time we go exploring together and I almost get you killed."

Asra's breath was hot, moist against the back of his neck, and Symon felt the trickle of the other man's blood down his skin, over newly healed scales. "Oh, you and me both." Symon muttered. He had to brace the arm with the injured shoulder against his lap, gritting his teeth as every jounce of Jasper's gait sent pain shivering through his nerves.

Well, at least we didn't die.

The world outside had its own rules [open]

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