Topic: Innocence Belongs to Children

NightRunner

Date: 2008-02-19 00:44 EST
Innocence Belongs to Children
(Ahem. Rating is for mature audiences. Not for the squeamish!)

"It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right
I hope you have the time of your life."
Good Riddance (Time of Your Life); Green Day








The snow hadn't started again since the appearance of the celestials. Really, it was a small blessing that it didn't. The numbness was beginning to fade and awareness was a mad jumble of lucid, detached hours of lethargy battling with a fiery frenzy of burning desire to beat this.
It was a desire to beat this, eliminate the Hunter...

It was a desire to regain the strength he once had.

And then the lethargy came again.

Distantly, he thought of things like some cold scientist. He thought of the HomeWorlds and their destruction. He thought of his early life and wondered if he could have stayed with the People even as they were killed, slaughtered one by one. The voices rang in his head like glass bells without tune.
He heard every cell in the body of the aged priest Alilli-kyen'temdah dry up, shrivel and turn into dust. He smelled the three New-Children of Panba' Nenberjan when their hair caught aflame and flesh temperature dropped to freeze them solid.
Dust wasn't made of them.
Frozen blue-green blood and ash was made of them, with transparent bones standing like a twisted monument to the carnage.

His mind froze right then and there.
He refused to let his memories go down that ancient path anymore.

The Hunter's voice rang in a distant, whispering laugh.

Renne's mind floundered, melding reality and dream into one sick state of consciousness. It was too quiet and too loud, too bright and too dark. Too hot, too cold. Too sweet and too bitter.

-His back split open down the left side. Flesh tore like a ripped page. Muscle swelled, irritated and flecked with infectious amber. A dull impact struck the lattice-like structure of his ribcage.
He didn't make a sound and for that, fury met him.

Then he felt hands. Cool, confident hands. They were strong, capable and assuring. Roughened by years of work yet soft in their mercy. They held him by the wrists and from somewhere, Renne knew what blue was.
He knew blue, gold and green.

The hands gestured, teaching. They shook with pride.
The hands instantly, protectively swept him behind something as thunder split his ears.

And then the hands let go.-

Renne had by now, gotten accustomed to shivering again. Violently so, he shivered; teeth chattering beyond his control. His mouth moved, forming silent words. Names lovingly, reverently spoken in the unforgiving cold. Mouthed words were names and an uncharacteristic act of begging.
Mercy.
Justice.
Hope.

Home.

No mortal heard him in his muted cries but he hoped someone divine might. He prayed to all he knew -- the One-God, Odin, the Krishna and the Mohammed he read about in books, his own native creators. He prayed to the Elf he saw as a brother. He prayed to the sea elf/human he called Bonded. He prayed to the places themselves, those that had ever been called home.
And he prayed to the humans he called heroes.

Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the stars, my soul to keep
And if I die before I wake
Family, Home, stronger make.

Duos Ora Equitas

Date: 2008-02-19 17:07 EST
"You label me, I label you, so I dub thee Unforgiven."
-Metallica (The Unforgiven)

(Not sure if a warning is warranted, but be aware it's not for the faint of heart...)


The human was not asleep, but neither was he awake. His body temperature was hardly noticeable, even compared to the Imp. His mind rolled around in his head, yanking itself free of the icy frost that crept inside. It tried with all it's might to warm it's host; it thought of sunburn, hot chocolate, warm sunny days, thick wool blankets... but it was hopeless. Hypothermia? It was a word the human would know, if he was conscious enough to know he was in trouble. Was the Imp safe? Did the Sword Lady vanish yet? No? Yes? He had no answers, and in the back of his mind, he realized he couldn't feel his legs.

He was kneeling in the snow, buried up to the waist, a thin layer of frost forming over his now-blue skin. If one could see his legs, they'd see blackened skin and open sores where ice crystals has burst when he moved that small amount and forced his blood to push through. But even his open wounds didn't bleed. The blood refused to run, and he was stationary anyway. The open sores allowed the ice to burrow into his muscles, and there they began their devious designs, first severing all synapses with the nerve endings, then trudging on to slow the pulse. A few ice crystals even managed to get into an open vein and traveled through the body to different points above the waist. If given free reign, they would do much havoc.

His lungs were having difficulties of their own. The tissue was beginning to harden from the outside, as the frost tried to gnaw its way in, but for now, it was a stalemate, so long as his body kept breathing like it was, short, sharp breathes that kept his pulse up. He was a hairy gent, but even his hair was frozen solid, frozen to his chest, his arms, even his face and head.

His arms were frozen in place, hugging the Imp close. To try and move him by force would likely cause damage beyond recognition, unless you knew PRECISELY what to do and how to do it... but even then, damage was unavoidable. He was beginning to lose feeling in his hands... thankfully, they'd be frozen in place, with his fingers splayed like that but close together, so the Imp was in no danger of being let go by accident.

His eyelids were frozen shut. Even if they could open, he was fading in and out, somewhere between this world and the world of dreams, so he'd see naught but darkness... ever-encompassing darkness. His body was starting to shut down, but still his mind fought on. His nose was plugged up with frozen mucus, his ears hardly hearing anything through the frozen, matted-down hair on his head. He wasn't even shivering anymore... but his mind toiled endlessly. He HAD to endure. He had to save him... the Imp.

Live, Imp. Live... His fading thoughts begged. The gods alone only knew if he even heard himself. The gods alone knew if the Sword Woman would bother to try and save him, the human. The gods alone knew if the human even cared if he was saved or not... provided the Imp lived, he truly didn't care because it was a race against time... and the clock was winning.

NightRunner

Date: 2008-02-24 23:43 EST
Innocence Belongs to Children
Emulating Heroism
(Again, fair warning. Rated for "Not-the-Squeamish"!)

"Some things are too beautiful to put down. Some events are too powerful to forsake. And some souls are too entwined within one's own to so cleanly detach."









He had to move.

It didn't matter how much it burned now. He had to move.

His thoughts were still a chaotic blast of things from both the distant past and the present -- things pleasant and terrifying married into one sick, twisted wonderland.
He felt the pain of the strange one and the arms around him. It was amazing really, at how detached Renne had become in registering the frozen world around him -- beyond the burn of freezing extremities, awareness was returning inch by painful inch.
Part of him wanted to reach out and Touch the stranger.
Part of him wanted to allow the Empath control.
And still part of him wanted to flee, to tell the stranger to go away to a warmer place.

He settled on a medium.

It took him a while but the first stage of the Empath was always decently easy to handle. His responses were unnervingly slow and sluggish compared to the usual rapid movement of cell and nerve connection.
Still, it was better than nothing at all and while he managed only a brief moment of contact, it was hopefully enough.
When he let go again, Renne lifted his head up and prayed another time.
As I lay me down to sleep
I pray, the stars, my soul to keep

I have no soul. What is a soul?

His mind thought of everything in one moment and brought out a singularity.
He heard the New-Children screaming and howling from dark corners long since put behind him. Hair burned from their heads and flesh shrank away from crystalline bone.
He heard a sound that was something only heard deep beneath the earth. Laughter and keening of another sort; cold iron, frozen around his neck, arms and feet.
See them all in sad repair
Demons dance everywhere

I remember you, Graz'zt.

He remembered the first time he had found a home and the first time he had lost one. He remembered his years as a nomad and why he became such a wanderer. And again, at this thought, a distant voice laughed at him, whispering sinister intent.
Humans forsake for their own ends.

Renne prayed when he heard this voice, prayed to all he knew.

Humans forsake, blood on the hands...
One-God, Odin, My people...

He didn't want to hear the laughter anymore. He didn't want to smell blood anymore. He didn't want the Hunter to exist anymore and he was prepared to make nearly any sacrifice to achieve such a wish.
His blood on your hands
If it meant his civilised knowledge, so be it.
Your blood on his hands
If it meant seclusion to the wilds, so be it.
Humans only deceive, abandon
If it meant his sanity in the end, so be it.
Evil human hands

Renne's prayers whispered and screamed all at once with what he felt and the one thing he wished for. Logic dictated that he move regardless of how much his body protested. So he did. Emotion dictated he pray.
So he did.
Voices rang and whispered from inside. Wind was felt outside and his mind wandered as it prayed. His head lifted again and he felt the flesh crackle, breaking as it went dry under the cold winds. Thin, shiny blue blood leaked out into the open air as if some invisible thing was rasping away skin layer by layer.
His eyes wept thick, iridescent tears that burned flesh away from his face; already thin enough to expose transparent bone beneath. Almost idly, he wondered if his teeth were still attached.
Some Human hands are beautiful.
He didn't care how much it hurt to force his hand to run along his left arm. It felt good to know the sensation of fingers trailing down the still-raised, still vivid tattoo. Idly, he thought of getting one on his other arm and heard the cynical, disdainful voice in his mind.
Why?

He answered straight away.

I would keep close to me my hero's hands.

When his hands moved, Renne prayed.

CaptainTapole

Date: 2008-02-29 00:39 EST
"And the last, but not least of us has faith enough for each of us." ~ Nichole Nordeman

What is most unusual about all of this is not the fact that of the three continuing on with the Mexican Stand-Off. But the fact that it was still snowing and rather on the cold side. Granted, mountains and all; but from the heat of anger emitting from Johnathan, the snow should have been melted hours ago.

Not once did she move. Not once did she flinch. Not once did she ever let her guard...or in this case, her anger...go down. Low growls gurgled from her throat. She could not get the World that the little girl was in. She could not gain back to what she had before Renne left her Harbours for the last time. Noone--be it an angel, a god, or even a bloody People--will take her Renne. The camel's back already broke, and it will not become paralyzed once again.

"Jarrod. I know ye still ha'e some twigs and flint in there. Make a fire. Now."

Ah. After all this time. Finally coming out of the trance that the angels oddly placed over him, The olive-green eyes blinked as he looked over to the stern-looking Johnathan. Knowing well enough never to contradict a lady, he nodded quietly and placed down his bag. Digging into it, he did bring out some twigs and the flint that he used when they were in the folk-made cave a little ways back. Organizing the twigs in an unusual matter--and close to the near-frozen-two--he sparked the flint of couple of times. And a couple of more times. It took nearly a full minute for the twigs to finally catch a spark. Slowly blowing into the smoke from the spark, Jarrod's breath let the twigs go into a small but rather strong blaze. Making sure the the little flame did not go out, Jarrod stay crouched down close to the little fire. With that, it did take a couple of moments for the heating warmth from the fire to slowly diffuse itself around the area--including the Mexican-Stand-Off-Three.

NightRunner

Date: 2008-03-04 02:49 EST
Innocence Belongs to Children
When Ravens Become as Doves

"Bring me trust and I will bring you my arm. Bring me patience and I will grow. Bring me brotherhood and I shall lay my heart at your feet."









It wasn't hard to start moving again. Rather, it was quite easy. Movement was, however, painful. It wasn't pleasant but as it is often said, the truth hurts.
And another truth came to his fading, detached mind as his left hand/paw stiffly extended outward to find a small parcel in the snow and his ears caught the familiar caw of a raven. Silver linings, clouds and something like that. It rambled tonelessly in his head as half-frozen fingers detached from the Human to inspect this mystery thing.

It took him nearly three hours and a quarter of another hour to have his fingers obey in reading the message and then opening up the wrapped parcel.

The burning in his hands and arms was most certainly worth it.

Commanding himself to form one small, coherent thought, the quiet blue creature pulled from his pocket a tiny emerald; one of the many he'd found or gathered from the earth for the last seven May months. And with it, his chafed, unused voice whispered a short message. It was one of love, trust, fear and hope.
After all, he never gave emeralds as a gift.
It wasn't much of a thing, but the effort was worth it. Even as his mind wandered into near-delirium again, he could pin his thoughts down on one thing always: His family.

Meandering on its own, his thoughts turned fondly to them -- Zonker and Melkor; mentors and two of the heroes in his eyes. Rena, somehow both a sister and a mother figure. Cinder; brother, uncle and friend-adventurer. Archie; steadfast, gentle bright spot in the sea of humanity. 'Nathan, a BondMate he never thought to find. And even Harold, the dark one with earth for hair and a heart like a constantly tossing coin.
He didn't listen to the whispers in his head speaking of distrust and the evils of humans.
He whispered faintly at the voices to stop speaking and leave him in peace.

Yet even he wasn't infallible.
He had his breaking point, no matter how strong he seemed.

Renne forced his fingers to read Cinder's message again, then to inspect the compass-like device. Forcing a half-smile upon his frozen face, the imp bade the raven to deliver his message and his emerald gift.
And then his mind wandered once more.

Words rambled like vines in an uncared-for garden.

Voices warbled in and out like delirious echoes of multiple pasts.

And once more, he prayed, this time as out loud as he could manage; to the One-God, to ODIN, to his own gods. To any that might care to hear him and listen.

Redemption. Understanding. Even peace.

Listening to the disappearing wings of the raven and the wind blowing about around him, Renne stiffly tucked away his message from Cinder and the strange device. He'd always kept things safe; he'd not fail at that. His mind wandered as much as it wished down the paths of memory and for a time, he'd kept some control on it. For a time, he kept it from sinking into the darker ways of both past and present.
It was only for a time he kept from the dark.

CinderElf

Date: 2008-03-06 01:26 EST
Far from the seas that spill water and spray he traveled across the world to a forsaken land. The waters were still and rigid with icy sheets that moved like puzzle pieces as they were broken from the board. The ship of the dead, Naglfar made the trip an easy one as it broke into the north. The wraiths were holding up as the elf focused on ahead running from the sides of the ship watching for underwater shifts. He called out to the wraith at the helm and followed his guide; they anchored near a solid shelf on the ice basin. Hoisting up a rope and grapple he climbed up the line with a rope ladder in hand. The wind and snow brushed his face and blew the rope making his climb a difficult one. He shook about in the wind as his gear weighed him down.

Standing up he nearly slipped on a smooth surface, as careful as he was he slipped. He gathered up his gear looking down below as his wraiths stood guard keeping the confiscated ship protected. He took up a hammer from his gear and nailed into the frozen shelf two steel ice pegs used for climbing and looped the ladder through. He tossed the hammer down below and it landed on the deck.

?Where are you Blue??

The elf wiped his face, and smiled for a moment thinking if Delliah was here she?d be in heaven in all this cold. He could barely see too far ahead which for him was bad even in the snow he could barely pick up little of a scent Lucky for him, he could make out the ravens in the pale light. The elf didn?t mind the cold much or as long as it wasn?t too long. He traipsed through the snow with ease his bare feet digging into the snow and ice. More snow then ice now, he was getting onto soil he thought as he looked over the landscape and came to decline into the land from this edge. He slid down halfway easing over a rock and hopped down into a snowdrift. Encased in powder he brushed himself off his hair becoming coated with particles of ice and snow. He paused briefly to drink up some whisky from his golden flask and then continued onward. He paused after coming to an old lone dead tree. The ravens perched in the tree looked down and told him this was the place, he adjusted his eyes and saw them.

Crouching down behind the tree he watched. Renne, Jonathan, a human and angels in the distance conversing. He grinned softly pretending to take aim at the angels. He wondered now what would he do, he could only remain silent for long. He stood walking aligned to the angels and cocked his head up to them. Oh yes he could see them, he made that very clear looking at them, he wanted no hostility today from them he was here just on family business.

He nodded to Jonathan and looked to Renne then back to her.

?What is going on?? He offered her some whiskey but drew it back remembering she does not eat or drink.

He took out the emerald from his pocket and watched with concern the strange human holding onto Renne.

CaptainTapole

Date: 2008-03-06 02:19 EST
"I'm never trusting them." ~ Jebediah

Continuing to stare sternly at the Human, Johnathan did not even flinch or jump with joy when Cinder came around.

"A People. Out of all things, a People is here. And he will not take Renne away from I again."

Over-protective? Yes. Overly-obsessive? Most certainly. The thick-on-ocassion head of Johnathan's--no matter how many times the Angels or the Human says and/or show--will not get the idea of this Human actually being on the psuedo-good side. Or else she would have moved from the same stance that she is still currently in--the same stance that she has been in for the past six hours. Never moving, never flinching, and no sign of her arm, her mind or anything of herself giving out. It seems like she could stay in the Mexican-Stand-Off like stance for days on end.

Jarrod, on the other hand, blinked as he watched Cinder approach, while still being crouched down at the campfire that was finally getting brighter and warmer. Continuing to add on the twigs and moss from his bag, he blinked and waited for a couple of seconds after Johnathan spoke.

"A stand-off that has been like this fer six hours. And an odd reason, those two got frozen. Though it had stopped snowing here about two hours ago. But I am just makin' sure that this fire continues on."

In Jarrod's mind, this is Johnathan's fight. And hers alone. That is one thing he will never get in the way--true love.

"And thanks fer the offer, but I'm fine. Really."

And cue in the cranky sarcastic Jarrod. Who wouldn't be cranky after being in the cold for quite some time with no much food, following a Sea-Elven-Halfling who is just as--if not more--insane as the mostly-frozen blue critter?

CinderElf

Date: 2008-03-07 02:50 EST
Cinder understood by her tone but felt he may prove of some use in the end to her and to Renne. Ever since he received word of his friend in pain he could not stand idle off in a country far away. Was it not the role of a friend to come and be there when times were bad?
He would so like to help them both out in some way, perhaps clearing the skies of angels he thought. A sinister smile marked his face as he thought about it. It wasn't his time to fight with the beings whom he held a deep hate for, he ignored their presence and the human beside the fire but couldn't help feel troubled over this other human holding fast to Renne. Turning back where he had came he climbed up the tree and joined the ravens which sat quietly watching the group.

"Engels talfei?".

NightRunner

Date: 2008-03-07 12:48 EST
Innocence Belongs to Children
When Human Voices Haunt Us

"Humanity -- it is the only truly wicked animal."








Reality.

In the times of sanity, he knew what it was, learned about the world around him and most of the time, savoured such knowledge that it was real. In times before his world, any world, fell apart around him, he had known that in reality, there was strength.
That time had passed almost a year before.
Many years before.

His mind roiled and wandered down paths that were both placid and horrifying. Dreams and reality had long since married into a twisted union. He thought of something that was and was not a dream. Renne still couldn't figure out which it was.
The cold had ceased for a short while. Voices spoke all around him. A man he knew and loved was not awake. Hadn't been awake.
The invincible hero wasn't and was there.
And fire engulfed the world
Renne heard the voices and smelled the flames. His voice never raised above a thin whisper while all that he was howled into the wind of this godforsaken land. is ears heard Cinder's presence. And 'Nathan. Cold flesh felt that of one human.
And he cried for the few Humans he still had some faith in.

Renne kept his hands moving. His spyglass and white feather lay clutched in his arms and soon, the alethiometer joined the series of lifelines. Fingers trailed along each treasure to ward off the ice as much as possible.

While fingers moved, Renne's voice mutely prayed again. He prayed mercy, redemption. Salvation and surrender.
His prayers were mutely spoken and drenched in the fires that took wood and turned it into ashes.
Slowly, he pulled out a charred piece of wood kept within a crystal casket and forced his head to lift skyward.
Eyes never saw the angels but he prayed to them anyway, just as he prayed to any and every god that might listen. Praying was a strange thing, bringing with it a distant epiphany as he lay where he lay.

He was no warrior.
He couldn't fight anymore.
So his mouth moved in silent prayer and he closed his eyes.

He closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Duos Ora Equitas

Date: 2008-03-08 13:44 EST
The Number of the Beast...
(Be forewarned... not exactly graphic... but it ain't pretty...)



Something stirred beneath the world. Something felt such curious going-on's... twas the night to be for He? 'Ere this night, has He waited for His chance. And now, here in this frozen tundra, where even the Angels now dared to tread... perhaps... perhaps...

What's going on? People... people here... to save him? At last... I was of some use to him... Brother... live... know that life... is not a curse... The Human was fading away... his heart was this side of stopping, his blood this side of freezing... even with the roaring inferno, despite it's miniscule size in comparison to the bonfires he had seen, was not enough to defrost the coldest of hearts, or the thickest of ice. Ravens...? The crackling of a fire? The Imp was moving... moving on his own... doing... something. The Sword Woman... she hates me... but why? All I wanted to do was save him! Perhaps the Fire Person knows this... maybe the Fire Person will tell the Sword Woman I mean no harm... or the Raven Man. Yes, yes ravens are good birds... they'll tell them... He was good with emotions, he came from a long line of Practitioners... but... The slow, spiraling descent into madness and darkness could not be stopped, not this time...

Azrael watched with keen interest... of course this was his territory, now, his balliwack. But something was off... this human was dying... yet he was not on his lists. He was not to be taken yet... hmm. Did the Father intend some sort of Miracle... or a test? Surely the human had endured beyond mortal comprehension already? But Azrael did not make these thoughts known; they were... most unbecoming of him...

You're safe, Renne... I protected you... with... my... The thoughts blurred, his mind going numb, but he had enough life left... to try one last time... to get the point across.

"I love you... brother." The human managed with his last breath, his lips barely moving, his body so cold not even his breath made vapor here. Oh, but that crackling fire... oh how warm it was... encompassing him... tugging at him... pulling him down...

At LAST! At last, sweet vengeance, oh the Angels would rue the day... the poor human, in his depression, O how he had sinned! He drank, he lied, and often did he blaspheme the name of the Holy One! And now, Azrael refusing to take him was an OPEN INVITATION! Oh, the Elf would not care provided she had her precious blue... thing. Perhaps even the rest would not care, once again, provided they had that blue creature...

"WHAT DEVILRY IS THIS!?" Michael's voice sang out, watching what only those who knew how to look would see; the soul of the human, his Life Force finally extinguished despite the efforts put forth, was being taken out of turn!? "POISON OF HEAVEN! YOU COWARD!" Michael roared, and the very Heavens shook with his fury. Azrael watched on in silence, his fingers uncharacteristically fingering the length of his scythe...

"What One calls cowardice, another shall call opportunity!" A wicked voice, so full of deceit and malice, answered back. "I lay claim to him! Your brother refused to take him, he is MINE! His noble acts were for naught..." And this Entity, by whatever name he was called at the time, turned his steady gaze to the motley group gathered... and he gave a most sinister laugh. "Oh you fools. The sweet irony of it all... this human gave his life to protect the blue creature... and it was for naught." The soul of the Human in his hand gave a feeble struggle, and whispered inaudible words of need, begging for help he knew would not come... "However, I am a merciful Lord, if any should wish to try and save him, well... simply enter my parlor... and let the games begin." And with a mighty, thunderous roar of victorious laughter, he slithered back to whence he came, viciously dragging the soul of the struggling human, the only evidence he was there being a foul smell in the air... and for those who knew how to look... a glowing red nexus leading... well, leading to God Only Knew where...

The Archangels stayed in their position, rendered speechless by the brazen acts of the Dark One. The only hope for that Human... who, while being truly human, seemed more, somehow... lay with these people here. One, who would only have been too happy to remove the humans head from his shoulders, a fire-starter, one belonging to yet another Patheon, and the one they had all come here for; a brave blue child, crying prayers to any who would heed. Though now he seemingly slept... what would his reaction be to know that the human that literally gave his life to protect him from the harsh cold... had just been snatched against his will... against anyone's will save the Dark One... all for the crime of loving one he saw as a brother? O Merciful Father... have mercy...

CinderElf

Date: 2008-03-10 03:46 EST
((Delighted? graphic, mature warnings...a first for me.))


The elf showed nothing of promise something, which changed as he was driven to arrive on a call from a friend, so he was driven away by an enemy. He stood on the dead tree; tossing the still bodies of ravens at the angels cursing them, calling their names out loudly and bid them to follow him into the dark. He stood on the branches of the old dead tree and tossed racial slurs at them willing them to come towards. He cursed their master, their lord with profound statements and lies and truths. He hated them all their ways of twisting humans. If demons were by definition it would surely be angels who were demons and demons who were angels. At least he understood why demons did what they were told but angels were at times more sinister than the hands that molded them.

"Come on play with me, leave this Imp be, I can make you mortals. Broaden your potential. I'll give you true reasons to excite and invigorate your waste like states. Your souls are stagnating angels"!

Cinder was different ever since he gained possession of the Naglfar, now it was ever so clear. He appeared right before them, kissing one on the cheek. Leaving a bloody hand on ones face.

"I cannot impart the worlds knowledge on you but I can impart the pleasures the sacristy the corrupt desires of the world. Do you see what your master has left you unable to see"?

He forced the images of people being slaughtered for not being born in the flesh of another. Those whose skin was of different colour being hung. Those of a different way of life were being decapitated for who they were. People of different beliefs being burned at stakes. Creatures not of human origin being murdered. He showed those who lived peaceful lives not following the doctrine of their master being tortured raped and killed by their followers. He showed the might of distrust and hatred for things not akin to their liking. Many many souls left unwanted in the kingdom of their god. Practices thought savage and uneducated by other cultures and religions being wiped out with a single blow.

"You are slaves, you need not be mules, and you are free. Ha! you did nothing. Go back to your momma".

He slowly dropped down to the snow and bent over to the Imp, he took the hand and gave him amber. He watched the angels for a moment and then smiled to the imp slowly looking for signs that he knew it was a friend.

"Fossilized sap, it would be hard to imagine something so sweet, and sticky would one day be a precious material. These are like my eyes, like the emeralds are of the one you spoke of. Years of seeing have made my own eyes hard, my heart even harder. I am sorry this human had given his life but I am not upset for you are here. Take yourself to Johnathan and leave this place. Here drink up".

He offered a fire wine, similar in fashion of which Renne had shared with the elf a year before, last winter. He unscrewed the bottle and held it in the imps cold frozen hands.

He stared at the nexus and thought of sending those pesky angels into it, he sighed softly. A slight grin he spit a thick wad of phlem from his mouth into the swirling red hole.

"Mercy". He chuckled.

Walked off passing everyone once again, leaving as he came. He ignored the invitation by the creature whom appeared taking the human. He cared less even for the situation as it was now and left. Perhaps he was wrong to feel urgency to arrive here. Perhaps there was nothing he could do here that would help, only hinder. He made it seem that that was the way he felt. As he passed under the dead tree the ravens flew down and rested upon him.