Untitled CH2

Suriel stood in the midst of yet another ruined village with only a few children and one or maybe two animals lurking arround the buildings. None of the children would speak to her, nor did she think them to be wholly human any longer. Something had changed them once the horrors had begun in their village. She was starting to believe the ledgends that she had been hearing at every place she stopped long enough to take a look arround and resupply. They all seemed to be pretty similar to the first one that she had heard, but varying on the small details. She was beginning to determine that this was more of a job for Clerics than for a lone druidess. Thinking about Clerics brought back that fateful day years ago when she lost her Cleric brother to a demon. She shook her head to clear it before tears and attachments clouded her judgment. She wasn't fast enough. Her momentary weakness opened up the thin thread that connected her to her twin. What she felt through the link terrified her. Never to her knowledge had she ever felt so much evil from him. She paniced, and desperately tried to shut the link, but couldn't. The pain, sorrow, and terror that flooded through the link was too much and after faltering a couple steps in the general direction of the main house where the survivors were, Suriel fainted, colapsing to the ground. Without her concious effort to close the link, everything poured through. She could feel pain after excruciating pain lancing through wings not her own. Pain was irrevokably intertwined with pleasure. Then things focused and a picture was burned into her mind. She was standing in her brother's body, chained to the ceiling, unable to move, eyes opened, and something foreign touched their mind. Before anything else could take place, Suri drew up her protection and hid, convinced that her brother had turned into their mother, a demon. She knew then that she could never go to the Clerics, for they would hunt Ezu down like an evil creature, and kill him without mercy. She also knew instinctively, as conciousness was starting to come back to her, that he was no longer in Hell. At the same time as she was pondering those thoughts she realized that she was not laying on the mud that made up the streets of the small village she had been wandering. She was laying on moss. Growing moss. As she began to lift her weight onto one arm, she realized where she must be. The Little Folk made their dens out of brambles and hedges concealing the openings to their underground dwellings. One was standing barely feet away, staring at her, her head cocked ever so slightly to the side, as if to say, 'what are you?' Suriel smiled briefly before the headache started, driving her back to the ground, and forcing her to close her eyes to the inpouring of light that only made things worse. She could hear the patter of many little feet and after what seemed like far to short of a time, something prodded her side. She looked out from under her hand, to find the leader. A short, child-sized woman stood with a bronze knife in her hand, looking more than a bit scared. Behind her stood the rest of the tribe, including the odd looking children that Suri had seen in the village. She managed a weak smile before dropping her hand back over her eyes. They probably would not hurt a helpless female, but in any case, she was in no shape to defend herself, and wouldn't be for a good while. When Suriel managed to open her eyes again, and take further notice of her surroundings, the Little People were nowhere to be seen. Though, nearby was a small cluster of fruits and vegitables, which brought a smile to Suri's face. Small things, like the Little People leaving food, always brought a smile to her face, though lately that smile was becoming very rare. Cautiously she tested the bond that she shared with her twin brother. She could still feel the evil marked apon him, but there was no onslaught of random horrors. Just a feeling of great pain. She shook her head in amazement. The bond had not been this clear in a rather long time. Since The Parting when he had dissapeared. Angrily she shook off her feelings of pity for him. There was not time for her personal struggles with him. Now was the time to act like a true druid and find the Clerics that were rumored to be fairly close by. The children of the village were safe now, though destined to grow up in a much different world than that in which they were born. Becoming one of the Little Folk was hard, and their customs were strange. Suri knew from her experiences learning from them their art of healing. She looked arround and found a small branch, and whispered words of power as she shaped it with her fingers. When she was done, it appeared as a branch topped by a hawlk. An appropriate offering of thanks to those who had sheltered her. She picked herself up, and took up her staff. Detidr winged his way down from the sky, and settled onto her sholder to clean the remnants of his most recent meal off of his chest and wings. No words needed to pass between them, both knew the reason behind Suriel's fainting. She silently set off in the direction of the nearest Cleric Monastary, knowing that they would be able to provide information where she could not, and they would be more capible of dealing with whatever was causing the plague. After all her travels, she was starting to believe that she was on the trail of a demon, rather than a really aweful plague. They would most likely be suppreised to find a druid at their gates. Druids rarely asked for help, especially from Clerics. Druids were healers, believing that there was always a peaceful soulition to every difficulty that they faced, Clerics on the other hand, were warriors who were tasked with hunting down evil things and killing them. Mercy and compassion were not common traits among their ranks, though Ezutiel had been an exception to that comminality. She was worried, regardless of her confidence in the skills of the Clerics, situations like this were always a bit awkward, and definitely cause for concern. If they deemed it necessary, they would send an escort with her, indefinately. Not many of the rural villagers trusted the Clerics, yet most trusted druids with no hesitation. Having a Cleric warrior guard would be most annoying.

Ezutiel couldn't help but smile at his friend's defence of him while he was still injured. Wordlessly he reached across their bond and reasured Thrathir. He was more than a match for this particular Cleric even with only his left hand. In the moments it had taken for him to stagger back and take a fleeting second's rest against Thrath's sholder, he had mastered his pain. Only a flicker of it showed in the depths of his eyes. The leader of this small division of Clerics stopped just outside Ezu's reach with his blades. The man looked him over critically, analyzing every detail before looking into Ezutiel's eyes. What he saw must have shocked him, for disbelief showed on his face. His eyes narrowed as he decided that it was time to speak.

“Who are you, and why have you decided to breach the walls of Hell and intrude into our upper world?” The Cleric leader began to pace as he spoke.

Ezu smiled. “My name is Ezutiel, and I am from this world. I was taken to hell ten years ago, and have just enough power now to work my escape. I believe you know me, Theodr. Thrathir, my friend aided in my escape, at great cost to him, and only asked to accopany me in the upper world in return for his aid.”

Theodr, the leader of the Cleric division, stopped in his tracks, and looked over the young man who stood before him. Whispers ran through the men behind him. The Cleric General, Maris, had searched for the half angel brat for almost ten years now, many thought he was insane. Or unable to admit that his star pupil had turned to his demon side. The young man who stood before him gave the possibility of several interesting oppertunities. He could either use Ezutiel's return to gain momentary fame and recognision in the eyes of the General, or he could turn the General against the young man he thought of as a son. Theodr's lips twisted into a small, brief, very vindictive smile before he spoke. “Men, stand down. We have a champion demon hunter in our midst. Ezutiel, Baron of Pheonix Manor, the protege of our General.” At these words, those who had not been staring at their captian and the demon man could not look elsewhere. Theodr glanced back at the young Novice who had the misfortune to get in the half demon's way. A rather nefarious thought crossed his mind, and he allowed himself another vindictive smile before turning to Taeri. “You, Novice have made the grave mistake of attacking a High Doyen, Ezutiel. In front of this assembily, all of whom witnessed your blunder, how do you plead?”

Taeri looked arround, fairly scared. He knew that the penalty for attacking a higher ranked member of the Order was death. Lying was also forbidden, and in the present company it would also be impossible. Swallowing his pride, he decided to speak before his over-zelos captian could speak for him. “I admit to setting my steel against Doyen Ezutiel in the midst of a battle against the demons of hell.”

Theodr nodded briskly and his right hand easily found the hilt of his hand and a half blade. “I would asume, since noone has spoken, that everyone here is in agreement as to what needs to be done. A great slight has been delt our order, and our Headmaster personally. Novice Taeri, prepare yourself to receive your judgment.” He drew his blade, plan perfictly in place. Ezutiel would be blamed for the death of the Headmaster's nephew, and therefore would be hunted down like the half-blood mangy cur that he was. Drawing his blade, he walked over to where the Novice stood, shaking. Afraid.

Ezutiel had enough of this nonsense. If Theodr was going to pull rank, then he would have to realize that he was by no means the highest ranking individual present. He rested his left hand on his blade and stepped forward forcefully. Most eyes changed their focus to him. “Stop,” he spoke with more force and athority than he felt at the moment, “I believe it is my duty to serve justice, seeing as I am of higher rank, Theodr.” Without so much as waiting for a response, he steped forward, walking directly infront of the Novice, his eyes growing steel cold. Theodr frowned, his foremost and easiest plan of ruining his long time rival now foiled. Ezu drew his blades left handed, and gazed down their length. “Do you understand your crime, Novice?”

Taeri nodded, and added his shaking voice to his action. “Yes. I am charged with attacking you, sir, without provocation.” He dropped his eyes, and tried hard to stop shaking. Death had found him less than a moon cycle after he joined the Clerics. This fate was his to accept, even if he desperately wanted it to change.

Ezutiel's eyes hardened. “You are wrong. Your crime is not attacking an unknown man who stepped out of a breach between this world, and Hell. Your crime is neither accepting his assistance, as your permission was not asked when he gave it. Your crime, Novice, is nothing more than failing to recognise my rank when it became known to you. Stand strong, Novice Taeri, for you are about to face my judgment.” His gaze fell allong the longer sword, normally held in his right hand, but now joined to it's brother, the shorter blade, not quite long enough to be considered a sword. Their ability to join is why Maris had given the newly forged magical blades to him. He knew that there was something special about them that only their true wielder could awake. Ezu had passed that test long ago, and these blades had made the journey to Hell and back with him. With a flourish, he drew his blades, already joined together. “Hold out your right hand, Novice.” Ezutiel's voice held an air of command. Taeri swallowed visably as he extended his hand. Ezu focused on the edge of his blade, heating it red-hot. He then easily made a number of small cuts, shaping them into his personal crest. “This will fade, Taeri, when you have repaid the debt you owe me. That is the extent of my ordered punishment.”

Taeri tried not to show the pain of his punishment on his face, but failed to stop tears from beginnng to flow. He glanced upward, meeting the Doyen's eyes. A gesture of thanks. The pain from the burn still grew. He immagined that it would fade within the next few days, but one could never tell. He had never met someone as high ranked as a Doyen before. Most of them stayed near the known entrances of Hell, and all of them were famous. He noticed, a bit too late, the look of fury on Theodr's face, and flinched. Compared to the wrath of Theodr, a burn was nothing.

Theodr was about to resume command when Ezutiel approched him, obviously with a question. He frowned for a moment before deciding to speak, “Theodr, a young man under your command owes me a life debt. May I take Taeri with me on my persuit of the demons who escaped through the door I opened to get out of Hell? Surely he will soon earn his honor, and nolonger owe me such a debt.”

Theodr smiled at his good fortune. “Of course. By all means, if you would like to take responciblity of watching such a new addition to the Cleric order. He has not been with us long at all.” Inwardly, Theodr was rejoicing. The opportunity to disgrace his arch-rival in the face of their headmaster had yet again presented it's self. Seeing Ezutiel's nod of acceptance, he wasted no time. He let out a piercing whistle that sent all the Novices still under his command scurrying to retrieve the supplies and horses. Not waiting for anything, he had one of his men toss a supply pack at Novice Taeri's feet, and another hand the young man to be left behind his horse. The blood bay stood with his withers almost equal with Taeri's head. The gelding wasn't vary pleased with being left behind, and trumpeted his displeasure to the world. Ezu was supprised at the speed of the Cleric's departure, but he made no effort to comment on it. Instead, he found two good shaped branches and worked on cutting them down to size to brace his now very painful broken wrist.

Suriel had been easily picking her way through the forest, when she heard what sounded like a thundering herd of horses. Thinking her hearing was off, she put her ear to the ground. Now thurowly confused, for the ground told her that horses were approching very quickly, she had little time to jump to the side before a company of Clerics came racing by. None of them slowed down or made any attempt to stop, for they feared their leader. Suriel knew Theodr by sight, and what she saw did not impress her. Nor had it ever come close. This man was responcible for all of the fights that Ezu had gotten into at the Academy, when it still igsisted. That man was a power hungry demonspawn, even if he claimed that both of his parents were full human. She caught the looks of terror that were passed through the members of his company, and instantly felt pity for the poor men. Serving under such a tyrant would be most unbareable. She contenued to walk in the direction from which they had come, only to see a whisp of smoke rising in the distance. Someone had made fire. She quickened her pace, and her golden dragon friend tightened his grip on her sholder as her stride lengthened. As the sun was getting closer to the horizon, she came apon the camp. Two men were sitting arround the fire, and one horse was picketed nearby. She didn't bother to announce her presence. Travling men usually noticed when another being had entered their space, and she assumed that they would notice her as she walked wearily toward the fire circle. Then she saw the dark man's wrist. The arm's bone had snapped, and almost broken through the skin, and he was doing a horrable job of bandageing it. The other man was doing a very good job of being sick. Without a word, she knelt beside the injured man and started to tend to his wrist, careful to only touch gently.