Twas late in the hour as Cinder strolled out of the back alleys, he carried with him a bottle of uncorked wine in one hand. He seemed a bit happier than he was hours ago, though he looked pale and could use a good hot meal and a perhaps a bath.

Walking along the smooth cobblestone and pavement streets he stopped to a glimmer on the ground beside a lampost. It appeared to be a perfectly round glass orb.

"Hmm... perchance, did somebody loose a scrying tool, eh"?

He knelt down and glanced at it, he immediatley knew it wasn't one but it had something peculiar to it, somewhat familiar in a way.

"Ah, ha yes... for stuffing the brassierre".

He held it to his chest making a funny grin. He would wonder whou would make a glass breast. HE sat down on the curb intrigued by this round glass, he placed it in his lap setting the bottle of wine aside. He stared at it for a fem moments.

"What could it be, a prize"?

He noticed another sphere rolling past him.

"What the"???

In the dark of the night he noticed some rolling down other streets.

"Is this an army invasion of some kind"? He thought to himself, he stared at the sphere in the light, he wondered if it was staring back at him.

He was suprised but felt no need in chasing the moving one. He placed it in his palms and looked at it for a moment. Without delay it opened up. Almsot like magic but not really, something by unknown force perhaps. He waited for anything else it migfht do.

He pondered for a while looking into the red storm of feelings. He knew what he had to do, help in some form or another. Standing up as he picked the wine in one hand keeping the sphere in another holding outward he walked down the street and then stopped near another lamppost.

"Where is it that I may find you"?
"How do I find you"?

He sat back down on the curb and set aside the wine once more as he stared at the glass.

"The Kingdom of Joy, is there such a place"?

He wandered down the streets to the dock passing many glass spheres; he wondered where they all came from. "Everywhere! I wonder if anyone else can see them"?

He noticed a vent shaft at the end of the street where water was forcing itself out of the grate; he could see one of the glass spheres stuck under it. He managed to unscrew the gate and the sphere popped up into the air, it fell pretty hard yet it did not break. Onward it rolled down the street.

"Hmm..".

He wandered around the bulkheads and rope bars keeping people out off the sandy walk around, he could manage on the watery sands as he walked he felt for sure he was getting close. A few glass spheres were washed up amongst the seaweed beds that gathered in the night, a few crabs could be sure to be found in that clump he thought. He took his mind off food and continued his search coming around the rocks he noticed the sand edged off. A few feet apart from him was where the sand picked up once more into a mouth of a cave. It appeared to be boarded up to deter any activity.

"Most interesting, would be dandy for pirates and the like". He thought to himself as he wondered if this was any lead to the mysterious glass spheres.

He hung his old and weathered leather hat against a blackened nail rusted from the salt sticking out off the wooden planks of the dock. He had no choice he thought ditching his good button shirt over the hat he hoped they would remain there. Taking a swim over to the other side in his trousers he slowly wading back up to a stance and walked amongst the sand. He took note of the cave being inhabited; there were a few carts and coils of rope lying against the makeshift dock that was well hidden within the barricade.

"Most definitely pirates".

He reached for his spear, which appeared from out of the air. He crouched down as he gingerly made his way deeper into the caverns networks, he watched a few glass spheres being drawn up into the city?s venting system, since it was still summer in a way he thought perhaps that?s how they managed to get up to the streets.

"If I am not mistaken the sewers run along side of the vents and this here cavern must be a secret route under the city. Clever, very clever".

He followed a route that began to take on the scent of a living creature, he was certain it was something he knew. He stopped for a moment and looked down watching a glass sphere stop at his feet, he picked it up and turned the corner.

He noticed in the dim light of a few torches soon to be spent a small creature that looked a lot like Renne. "It can't be....Ren, is that you"?!

He sent away his spear and walked a bit closer but keeping his distance, he made the torches glow with a blink of his eyes.

Display the Bloodeagle

"'Land of Song!' said the warrior bard
'Tho' all the world betrays thee
One sword at least, thy rights shall guard
One faithful harp shall praise thee!'"
The Minstrel Boy; Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros





Cinder's voice whispered and yet rang out in the echoing caverns below the Rhy'Din city.

It wasn't expected -- in fact it received first a guarded analysis. In the end though, Cinder Shirastan was a welcome presence even if not everything he conveyed was the silver lining in a steadily darkening cloud.

They didn't share not-fyrewine this time. They only shared words -- truths and possible truths that ultimately, might have been better left undiscovered.
And once again, Renne had cried.

He cried for the world that once was.

He cried for the darkness that could very well be his own.

And he cried for the lies he was so shrewdly fed.

Still, it was enough to have him start thinking hard on more than one track. He knew he had to get back to the Holding House -- he knew what he wanted most in the world right at this moment.
And he'd be damned if he failed this time.
He held his candle and listened to Cinder speak. He spoke back, asking questions and sometimes -- to his horror -- gaining a sharpness in his voice.
The jade had begun to grow and it showed no signs of stopping.

Cinder spoke of a pocket-place where things couldn't be touched or harmed. He spoke of evil spirits, puppeteers and strange illnesses that bring forth a foreign entity into one's mind. He spoke of a dead-but-not-dead man that was still alive.
A dead-but-not-dead man that gave up a long time ago.
For this and all things, Renne cried.
He wasn't however, deterred from his goal as he heard the Ferisha elf speak again.

"I can lead you out of here and back to the holding house..."

The offer was too tempting, far too tempting but he had to think for as many angles as he could.
Renne remained at Cinder's feet knowing exactly what he wanted but not knowing how to get there. He knew that even the possibility of his hands committing such acts as the mind-healer said he had meant that he would be watched. He knew that however he had gotten out, he'd be searched for.
But would he be attacked?
Would Cinder be attacked?
He didn't know that answer and despite it all, he did try to think of that. There were many lives he'd protect above his own hide -- no matter the worth of it.

And facing a truth he never thought he'd find, he faced it.

He no longer trusted most humans. And yet there were a few he couldn't bring himself to turn his back on, no matter what was done.

He said Home was safe. He has not spoken an untruth.
-So far, anyway.-
He has not. Ever. Home, he said, is safe. Is that not what matters?
-And your loyalty does not?-
Unknown. Many things take precedence. The darkness must be removed.
-Why bother for the dead?-
He said not-dead.
-You have no proof.-
There have been times of exploration before. Perhaps this is another.
-Do not trust so readily. It has cost you too much already.-
Without the Tenets, I am nothing.

He couldn't Analyse. Silencing at least many of the thoughts that rang so loudly in his head, Renne kept his mind on his current goal and how to get there.
Moreover, how to get there without causing harm to those left that he loved.

Following Uncertain Lanes

"I have not yet begun to fight."
--John Paul Jones





Cinder and he had to part again.

It was both painful and hopeful knowing that he couldn't go right then. He could hear the distant footsteps -- but be it guards or vandals, he couldn't tell. It was for this, he couldn't yet go with Cinder.
It was for this, he was glad and pained.

The last thing he wished was the last of what he knew harmed on his behalf.

Yet even with this, he knew he had a long way to go. And somehow, he'd get back to the Holding House. It might not be today he'd get back.
But he'd get back.

For now, he listened to be sure Cinder stayed clear of the footfalls. Then he fled from it, finding a hidden little place in the cavern wall to burrow into.
It was a good two feet off the ground level and some three feet deep into the wall. Surely not gigantic but it was enough room for him to do what he needed to do. It was enough for him to keep warm in his yeti furs, sit back and let himself think.

He put his candle away in his pocket and brought out his journal.

It was high time he start thinking.

It was high time he start understanding.

------------------

Many hours passed in altering stages of Analysis, almost-sleep and hyperactive thinking. Sometimes he was still and sometimes he squirmed, trying to get his thoughts together.
His journal pages turned and flipped forward and backward as he read over past days and the current world around him. Some were writing, some were drawings. Either way, they were all history. His history.

It wasn't going to end here, either.