Wanderer (cont from "Opening")

[Malkate Rose Sedi]

Each step carried her away, and it was painful. She was so distracted about getting away incase by some miracle he awoke that she had thrown off her direction by at least a mile. However, this was a place that before everything had gone awry, when her Solitude was almost an enjoyed creature – that she would wander to ease her mind; a soft garden with the lake not too far off to the actual dojo. Soft tree’s surrounded the landscape giving it a secluded look though they weren’t thick enough to really cover much. It was beautiful to her – because it was a wild garden. Nothing was really planted, just suggested to the earth and it took to it so wonderfully. Colors of various shades, greens and animals that made it much more alive to her than something she’d planted and altered and pulled and dug. However, in all the time she’d been gone it hadn’t had someone to sing the suggestion to it; and the flowers were wild more now and untamed, but it had a sort of feral beauty to it.

Her footfalls were swift, but were slowing as the garden tried to ease the turmoil of her brain. Why had she given him the ring? She didn’t do it to let go of it, no, she wanted to let him know she was here. She missed it’s familiar weight around her neck as her finger had been bare of jewelry for quite some time. The last thing she ever needed was Sever finding out that the thing dangled above her heart those years they had found something to fill that void, to pass the time. Though even as she thought to it; that’s simply what it was. Happiness was never attained with him, just a kind of almost peaceful acceptance. There was little love, as affection wasn’t one of his best things. She’d not lie and say that the man didn’t give a lot to her after he stole her away from her old life, and the change had allowed her to come full circle to where she had once been.

Lasius was alive.

Her eyelids closed as her footfalls faltered, and she felt that damnable emotion curling up inside of her again. It was like wearing a sweater that kept you warm – but at the same time it prickled along your skin, irritating it. However, it would also thicken the skin, so to say – but the cold detachment she’d grown accustomed to was receding at too rapid a rate for her to be able to easily change with it. Now that wasn’t full truth – she even in that dark cold place had held hope someday of repentance; she was not fool enough to hope anything for something more than that. Some peace for her history, and maybe a kind of slow seem less sleep to ease the passage of time. She wasn’t quite sure that she could die anymore – between all the alterations to her body and the possession of magic that filled her like a second soul. The passage of time would have to ease at some point – but the hope of rest someday was like a dark little thought in a bright garden within her head.

A hand went up to push away a vine that dangled within her way, and even as her hand brushed it aside something heavier that was tangled became loose and dropped almost slicing through her foot. She jumped back as the brush of power almost thudded right into body, and her eyes widened. It was a small thing, almost a dagger looking but it’s edge didn’t shine with a sharp edge; and there was a hole within it’s center that looked more like a kind of catch for weapons than anything. Her form kneeled down slightly, and even as her fingers caressed the hilt, closing around it, the thrill of raw power filtered through her. There was potential here, if she could figure out this… weapon… but even as she picked it up she felt the gradual increase of strength to her limbs – the energy that was once wearing on her filling her wildly as if she’d stuck her foot within a running stream and absorbed the power.

Her eyes closed, and her mind went back to the things she’d learned about the Sedi, from Lasius and Sever, even at times from Xada and her mind closed around the word “Arc”. Hadn’t they each carried one? Her eyes flashed open and she smiled slowly – it would appear that she had found one. If only one energized her this much, how much could the others energize another one? Her smile faded as she thought about Darken getting his grubby little hands on all of these and a sort of dread filled her. Turning her gaze towards the dojo she knew lay only a bit more north, she started moving again her pace a bit faster. It was slowly filling her as she almost unconsciously tapped into it’s raw power –ignorant if it did much more than simply fill the person like this. She felt her magic inside respond, almost resonate as if trying to tell her something that her mind wouldn’t register.

The Arc of Magik was hers.

[Malkate Rose Sedi]

Malkate’s hand froze over the petals of the flower she was about to touch, her head flicking up sharply. She felt a great disturbance, something within the very earth that screamed denial. She felt the tug and pull of Darkness, Death and Shadows – even as her eyes turned towards the sky and the first drop of rain hit her face. Shock, denial, and a sort of warm hope and sadness mingled within her at the same time. The personality behind the storm she could feel – even if it wasn’t there. To her, he lived in the storms even though by some miracle he had come into flesh again. Her hand shook slightly as the storm disappeared, faded into nothingness and the glitter of color showed against the landscape, squeezing her heart tighter.

Her hand’s shook as if she’d been struck by one of those flashes of lightning, withdrawing back away from the flower that hung slightly wilted. Her eyes were staring, still, at the skies as if sight alone could pull the strength to do what she needed to do. The desire to run home was overwhelming – but she knew he wouldn’t be there. No, the storm was not to find her – to seek her – and she needed to calm down. If it were her death she faced she’d not go cowering or pleading for forgiveness – she’d go willingly. However the problem with a creature of age, any creature that has lived for a prolonged period of time different than what they ever thought – is the desire to cling to that life even as the bitterness of ages and loves lost grows deeper.

She took in a deep breath, stepping forward as the edge of the dress rustled around her feet, a new mission taking over her mind. She felt the brush of fur as an annoyed growl accompanied her movements, the Arc tied around her waist by a thin cord of rope shifting and shimmering as the cat pushed away from her. Malachite was a magical creature – something of a fae and a large feline offspring. He could open time rifts and dimension rifts, he could easily shift through planes with no problem. He was also normally a hostile natured cat, but had found a friend in Malkate after she nursed him back to health. He was protective, and never liked Sever – his growling displeasure anytime the man was near was obvious enough, and made a point to be out hunting whenever the abomination was clear. Of course, Malachite also preferred to think of himself as Malkate’s ‘mate’ and didn’t like other alpha males coming around.

So as she moved back towards the house, without even a brush of her fingers to let him know she was not going to do something stupid, irrational, and purely female, his temper showed as he stalked behind her, taking her hand in his mouth almost gently. Malkate looked down, almost absently, watching the slight trickle of red blood with a hint of blue to it slide down her hand. The pain was almost staggering, and it wasn’t even that big. Her brow’s knit together, and she looked with irritation at Chite before he let her go.

”I won’t.. I’ll be back.”

She felt him stiffen, a slight snarl there and she turned her entire attention on him.

”Soon Malachite, but not now. You can see where I’m going then, but I need you here.”

She turned, again, moving into the house and quickly gathering the robe leaving the staff behind. She adorned it, leaving only time enough to let her hair down before she flashed off into light again, leaving the agitated cat behind.