J. Chansellor - Son of Erebus

Untying the satchel, she pulled from it bread, dried meat and a small bit of cheese. Koen refused when she broke off a piece of the bread for him.

"Suit yourself, but don't whine later that you're famished. We could have a long journey ahead of us." She took her time eating. Her ankle needed the rest and her mind began to wander.

Surely the waterfront villages had been stronger than Palingard. She was aware that she was reneging on every point she'd ever made in her arguments with the men in the village when they'd tried to convince her that Palingard was not alone and that there had to be other strongholds farther from Eidolon. That had sounded ridiculous to her at the time. Why would Eidolon have wasted its efforts on a little tract of land like that? Palingard had nothing of value and what they did have they accredited to their damned Adorians.

She tore off a piece of the dried meat, feeling her hunger more as the spice of it warmed her mouth. Ah, the faithful. Their eyes had been trained on looking for imaginary friends when they should have been wielding weapons. How many times had her father told them to take pride in fighting for themselves and not to believe in such fables? He'd been right, of course. He always was.

But her parents and a few of her father's closest friends had been a minority in the voice of Palingard. Even Bella and Sara believed in the Adorians. Sara's parents had been students of the University and knew better than to keep their faith in the ways of the past, especially when it had done so little to preserve their world.

When she finished eating, she and Koen found a stream and filled the small flask with enough water to sustain them for the rest of the day. For the first few hours of their trek, she vented her frustrations to Koen. As it grew later in the day, however, she fell deeper into silence, lost in remembrances of her past.

Following her mother's death, she'd traveled with her father. They'd gone as far as the sea, to a small province north of Ruiari. She could still remember the smell of the salt in the air and the strength that seemed to radiate from the sailors. Her father had told her they were mostly from the kingdoms in the northern realm of Lycus, his homeland.

So far from Eidolon — is that where you have gone?

Exhausted, she slowed her pace and finally stopped to rest against a tree. This would have been much easier with her horse. She'd heard stories of loyal steeds that searched out their masters long after they had been separated by warfare. Not Shadow. He was only good for spooking and stepping on her feet.

She looked down to see if Koen seemed as worn out as she felt. Just as she turned her head, she saw something entangled in the weeds and ivy that wound around the tree. She lifted her hand to brush aside the foliage, but as she turned, it vanished. Startled, she stepped back, nearly tripping over Koen.

"Did you see that?" She regained her balance and leaned forward, then, ever so lightly, she touched her fingertips to the leaves. Shimmering like sunlight on the surface of water, bright silver came again into view. Shocked, she pulled a sword free of its prison and held it up, examining the intricate designs etched into the gleaming gold blade. The hilt was what she had first seen, an ornate cast silver with two dragons whose tails curled around the hand grip. It was unlike any weapon she'd ever seen. The men of the village had crude swords forged of metals easily found in the surrounding areas. Even her father's chosen instrument was a weapon of simple design.

This was a broadsword, nearly half her height and much too heavy for her to actually wield against an attacker, but she couldn't bear to leave it behind. She was also quite conscious of its strange appearance. There was always the chance that she'd imagined it to be hidden and, in her delirium, envisioned that it was revealed at her touch. She couldn't deny its impressiveness. Perhaps she was much closer to civilization than she thought.

She glanced at Koen long enough to motion him onward. Just a few miles farther, they reached the edge of a city. It was grand — high spires draped with marble carvings rose in the distance, overshadowing smaller yet similarly adorned buildings. The stone was cut in a fashion that gave a sense of great wealth. This was once, if no longer, a flourishing city. What struck her, though, was the lack of movement, the lack of any sound except of creatures scurrying in the woods behind her.

Had she thought at all that she weren't alone, she wouldn't have gone closer. After a few moments of observation, she was certain. She made her way past the wooden doors and into the city itself, wandering for a bit before pausing to take in the magnificent temple in the center of the city. She opened her mouth to say something to Koen about it, when she realized he wasn't there. Not in the least surprised by his disappearance, she continued on.

Removing her dagger from where it was strapped to her thigh, she stayed close to the buildings that lined the main throughway. The sword in one hand, useless for anything but intimidation, and her dagger in the other, she thought briefly to herself that her father would eat his words if he could see her now. He abhorred her interest in archery and would have killed Duncan with his bare hands had he known his friend had tutored her not only to shoot with startling accuracy, but to throw hand blades with equal stealth. Surely, her father would have seen the benefit of her having such skills now.

There was an eerie stillness about everything. As she passed the shops, she noted they were devoid of settled dust, rotted food, or any other signs that there had once been life. She also noted that not only were there no humans or Ereubinians present, there was not one thing living past the wooden doors. Nothing. No bugs, rodents, or animals had found shelter in the city's abandonment.

Something is wrong, something feels so very unnatural about this place.

Despite her growing concern, she couldn't stop herself from entering the temple. The closer she came to its enormous doors, the more compelled her feet were to pass through them.

As soon as she stepped onto the polished stone, euphoria washed over her. She had to grip a small bench to steady her feet. She looked up into the rafters and the carved wood that trimmed the walls, losing herself as her gaze turned upwards. More than ten stories high, the domed ceiling was painted with a bright mural that depicted a multitude of scenes. There were two dragons in battle; one bright silver, the other an almost iridescent shade of white, surrounded by winged beings that she could only guess were Adorians. Another picture displayed a beautiful woman with dark hair standing behind a sandy-haired man, whispering into his ear. He held a book that glistened gold. Farther over was an image of two lovers embracing, tears streaming down their cheeks. She touched her hair, similar in shade to the tresses in the mural, and sadness swept through her.

"Your sorrow is without cause, you have much to be thankful for." A little girl's appearance startled Ariana.

"What?" she murmured. The euphoric feeling strengthened, blending with the grief she felt, making her behave as if drunk.

The girl drew closer and took her hand. "Come, let me show you."

Ariana hadn't the will to say no, nor the clear consciousness to question it. She followed until they came to a low pool of dark water, its surface completely still. A perfect reflection of the painted ceiling appeared on the water's surface, the lovers frozen in their woeful stance.

"Do you believe in dreams?"

Ariana considered the little girl's question as she peered at the water's surface, feeling her chest tighten as the image changed into her parents' likenesses.

"You can be with them, Ariana. All that is required of you is to say the words."