(~Umm. Brutal details. Ya have been warned. Some of them will not make sense if done in reality--but this isn't reality. Deal.~)



Port South has been all the quiet since The Dockside Killer has been let go under constant psychological watch. The piers have been getting ships dock like normal. All seven piers were occupied this evening; but most of the crewmen were more inland within the City. All enjoying the company of companions or their alcoholic bottles. There were a few crewmembers here and there, at least two from the eight ships docked within Port South.

A place where she wished not to be ever again. But it was not Johnathan's fault for any of this. Walking along the docks within Port South, the calm dark-brown eyes watched the few of the crewmembers that were on watch--and also visible to the pass-byers. There was one man who was whittling while lying on the docking board to his ship. Without any thought, or any words, Johnathan stepped up to the docking board and watched the man for a moment.

Half-way done with a duck that he was whittling, the broad-shouldered man slowly looked up to the lady with sword at hand. Eyeing her grip, the gent slowly placed down the wooden board and kept the whittle tool in a soft grip; but he did have that look where he would be ready to pounce at any given second.

"Hey there, little lady. Thar is nothin' tae be so hasty 'bout. I can make ya a frog if ya want."

The crewmember noticed the frog charm that looks like to him that it was on her skin--without any string. Slowly standing up as he peered down at the lady--where he was normally five-foot ten-inches and being at an incline was still more to his advantage. The whittle-tool handling hand slowly reached out to try to touch the fog charm.

"Are ya a hopper?"

Johnathan not once said a word. Watching him as she canted her head a bit; she knitted her eyebrows in confusion. Seeing the hand reach over to touch her; that is when the crewmember took it too far.

Keeping that good firm grip onto the wave-blade, Johnathan stuck it deep and hard right into the crewmember's stomach. Watching him scream faintly out in pain, Johnathan grabbed ahold of the whittle-tool before she withdrew the blade from the crewmember's stomach. Slashing the wave-blade right in the air directly before he had a chance to move his hands. Both the hands went flying to the left and right into the Ocean's Waters. Hearing the gasping and the potential scream did not phase Johnathan at all. She watched him knee down as blood came flowing out from his stomach and his wrists.

"Dare not touch I again."

Gripping onto the whittle-tool, she stabbed it right into the crewmember's left eye. Johnathan had to tug a bit before the eye came right out. Shaking the whittle-tool off so that the eye can slide right off, she did the same thing for the right eye. Watching the crewmember topple to the side while laying in a pool of blood; Johnathan stepped back a bit...to make sure that none of the blood seeps onto her boots. And none of this phased Johnathan whatsoever. As if her calm face was all that she could give.

"My stars! Need help now, guys!"

Four men came out from random ship-watching--on their ships, though--with daggers already ready. Seeing the lady with the wave blade, they still had a stern look but were rather confused.

"We ain't gonna hurt ya, little lady."

Johnathan's face was more stoic than when she came to RhyDin City the first time. Looking over to the four men, she canted her head a bit and simply watched them as her grip on the wave-blade became more forceful.

"People hurt us all. The Many hurt us all. So there shall be no more pain."

Before all four of them could even comprehend what the odd lady was talking about, one of them already had his arm completely chopped off at the elbow. And that was when they all attacked her. The scrawny-looking sailor started at first to disarm her...which was a huge mistake since he only had two daggers on him. Having the stoic but lethal lady parry his thrusts, then head-butt him to knock him out. Another grabbed her by the hair and pulled her back harshly so that she would kneel down with force. The lady did kneel down, then took a dagger from the unconscious sailor and stabbed right into the testicles of the hair-pulling sailor. Taking the dagger out right before the sailor screamed out in pain, she then used it to stab him right in the intestines. Watching him fall while in dire pain, the third and fourth one at first seemed like cowards--but soon enough came back with quite a few more.

Johnathan canted her head a bit as she watched the testicle-stabbed sailor on the floor. Keeping silent, she took the whittle tool and stabbed him in the eyes--even with them closed--using force to shred them out of their sockets. Staring down at the root-like veins, she shook off the whittle tool and placed it right inbetween her cleavage. Slowly looking up as blood soon got on the dark-brown leather pants, she came to find something surprising and nearly overwhelming--but not once did she show that.

Four more men surrounded her. Daggers, maces, and one-sided axes in hand. All with a look of lust and maliciousness. Without any hesitations--and thinking they would have advantage for her being on the ground--three of the men approached her with winning grins on their faces.

Seeing the men come closer to her, Johnathan laid on the docking grounds and rolled herself so she at least knocked down two of the men. The third man who was not knocked down grabbed Johnathan by the ankles and started dragging her. Twisting herself about so that her ankles grabbed ahold of the man's wrists, she kicked him away as she stumbled up to her feet. The fourth and last man stabbed her in her upper left arm before arm-locking her by the neck. Placing pressure onto Johnathan's neck, she had no choice but to drop her sword.

"Now. Ya need to pay us back fer the damage that has been done, Missy. And I think I know how."

Turning her about, he watched her with bight green eyes filled with lust.

Johnathan canted her head as she slowly placed her hands on the sides of his head.

"How 'bout a peep show?"

With that, pushing down the head of the man into her chest, there was soon a scream and blood trickling down the crimson-red shirt. Letting go of the head, it came up with the whittle-tool stuck in his right eye. She grabbed the whittle-tool and pulled out with force and sticking it in his left eye. Having the right eye slide deeper onto the whittle-tool; Johnathan fiercely pulled out the whittle-tool while watching the man scream in pain. Quickly turning back to the other three; where one of them was staggered to stand up, she kicked him right at the knee-cap which made the leg go backwards.

Johnathan did not even bothered to get rid of the eyes on the whittle-tool, feeling the blood and the veins tickling on her hand and wrist. She watched the three still-surviving men for a moment while canting her head. Keeping silent and yet calm, she bent down and picked it up along with one of the daggers. Kneeling down to the broken-leg man, she turned him around so that he was facing up. Taking no hesitation, she hacked the wave-blade right across his legs--above the knees--so that they were chopped off. She then took the dagger and plucked the eyes right out--like the previous men.

Screams of pain did not phase her. Nor it seem to phase anyone else within Port South--or at least responded to them. Looking back to the last two, there was no look of sympathy. No look of morose. No look of anything. Just a stoic look. One of them started to crawl away in hopes that he would not be seen; but not so much. Throwing the dagger right at the crawler's head--and a direct hit--the head slammed itself against the docking-grounds. Seeing a pool of blood directly next to the head, she looked back to the last surviving one--the one with twisted ankles. Slowly standing up, with the sword in her hand, she saw the fear in the man's eyes. She saw the mercy he was silently asking for. With that, she took the tip of the wave-blade directly into his right eye first, then to the left. Shaking the wave blade to get rid of the eyes, she took no hesitation to hack off the head of the twisted-ankle man.

Getting to the piers within Port South, Jarrod blinked as he gasped silently. Slowly stepping up directly behind Johnathan; he could not speak for a moment.

"Johnathan. What did ya d--"

Without noticing the voice, Johnathan pushed her sword directly behind her--right into the man's lower intestines. Turning about, though, seeing Jarrod suddenly took her out of her trance. A look of shock and sadness quickly swept over her. She could not move. She could not speak. Her eyes quickly filled with tears, though.

Gasping for air deeply and quietly, Jarrod's eyes went wide. Staring directly into Johnathan's eyes; it took him a few good moments before speaking.

"Find Renne....and...and run. Away...from here."

"But. But..I..."

Finally looking down at herself, Johnathan saw the blood. She then took a quick glance around without moving her head. Seeing eight dead bodies--and one afloat--on the docking grounds, tears rolled down her eyes as she looked back to Jarrod.

"There...is a branch of me offices about...about two days north-east of here. Find it with Renne. Tell them...Tell them I sent ya. They will help the both. The both of ya."

"Not without ye!"

Slowly pulling back with the hilt still in her hand, Johnathan pulled the sword out from Jarrod and quickly wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

Refusing her shoulder, Jarrod pushed himself from her, but did take ahold of the wave-blade for support. Placing his left hand on the area of his lower intestines for pressure. He breathed heavily and deeply as sweat started to pour from his forehead.

"I will take care of this. Now go!"

Not knowing what to do, Johnathan blinked as her feet slowly started moving away from Jarrod; more inland.

"Akka deshnu."

With that, Johnathan ran away from the docks and the piers; not once looking back. Her emotions overwhelmed her. Guilt. Confusion. Defeat. And worst of all, loss. The one thing she desired the most--the one creature she was completely in love with--was not found.

North was the direction Johnathan went. Blood-stained and unarmed, the Inane-Outsider made sure she got out as fast as possible. Away from RhyDin City...more than highly likely for the last time.

"Someone else not me." ~ Duran Duran

Nearly a week has come and gone. Farther away has Johnathan gone. Away from the main roads. Away from reality. The voice slowly took over her--implanting doubts and worries into her brain. It has been weeks since Johnathan had a decent amount of time of sleep--and sleeping seemed even more useless. For that was when the voice became corporeal--in her dreams.

The minute ounce that Johnathan was lingering onto--the ounce that made her so strong, so stoic--was completely destroyed. A shell of doubt, worry, loss and pain was all that was left. But for the past hour or so, Johnathan looked like she was in a trance. Her hair went back to the wavy brown hair--though completely frizzled as if too much moisture and stress. Her clothes were now completely covered in mud--which even covered the blood stains. Her hands were even covered in mud.

The small area that she was residing was soon covered in mud. Scriptures dug into the ground by her fingers. Both of regular English-Formatted letters...and symbols that were certainly something that was different. The blood shot paranoid brown eyes barely blinked as she scanned over the same word at least five times. She then continued on digging her fingers to write words...

If anyone could actually read this, I congratulate ye. These words, if not washed away by the Rains, were written by a once-bra'e captain. A captain that was Half-Of-The-Seas. A captain who was lo'ed by folks of an inacti'e Harbour. A captain who is in lo'e.

Ye will ne'er know me name--let alone meself--but be known now that it was Lo'e and Loss that dro'e I to something far worse than Death.

A shell. An empty shell.

Me Life. Me Light. Me whole existence of being followed down to the Depths of The Nothingness to find someone else. And now, now all the 'Oices that was destroying me Lo'er's mind has now destroyed me own.

Sadness took o'er I. Doubt has been infused within me mind.

When ye ha'e yer lo'er; ne'er let go. No matter how much they wish to lea'e, do not let them. Fer e'en a thousand Oceans will not explain the amount of pain ye will feel...

The shell continued on writing with her fingers as tears slowly rolled down her weather-whipped, pain-stricken face. An inane-Outsider once full of stoic and light was now extinguished by the continuous laughter and whispers of doubts within her mind.

?When the Moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that?s Amore.? ~ Dean Martin


Another week has gone by, and Johnathan has barely uttered a word. Not even to Zen, who has been kind enough to check in on her every now and again. Johnathan was never bed-ridden?she just refused to step out of the room.

During the week, Johnathan did in fact get a better interpretation of the playroom she was residing in. The dolls and toys, though dusty and old, seemed like they were all played with often. What she noticed, though, was that all of them had willow trees somewhere upon them?either a stitched-on willow tree pattern or one burned into the wooden toys. Johnathan?s nose twitched at that. Finally, behind some of the dolls were two portraits. One of a younger Zen?looking so radiant with the long ocean-blue hair?along with her husband and two little girls, both seemed the age of eight. The husband was dashing-looking?oddly similar to Jarrod if he looked just ten years younger and had dark-brown hair that was down to his shoulders. Strangely, there was an empty spot on the portrait, as if someone was to be there but wasn?t. The other portrait was of five folks. One was young-looking Zen, but had a regal look to her; but was laughing. There were two other ladies, who looked also regal and still silly. And the other two were gentlemen; one seemed like a king of some sort while the other a knight. Behind them was a large grey palace surrounded by gardens upon gardens. Johnathan stared and studied the two portraits; as if waiting to hear their stories. But alas, nothing. Curiosity always gets the best of her, though.

Downside to this curiosity, it happened in the middle of the night. And Zen is not even within the house?for Johnathan did watch her go out into the woods one evening and nearly every other evening as well. A place that she dares not go venture into. However, it was nice to get some air. With that, placing the two portraits back where she found them, Johnathan walked over to the mostly closed door and stopped. It was rather improper to go out of the house with just a night gown on?but she had no other clothing. With a heavy sigh, she pulled the door open and headed down the stairs to the main rooms.

The bottom floor was rather simple. A kitchen that had a door to a greenhouse. The living room had a couch and a large fireplace with two rocking chairs angled towards eachother and at the fire that was going at a dull roar. On one of the rocking chairs was a oak-brown dress that had similar floral printing to it that Johnathan had on before?but the sleeves were more flowy and the neckline was a lot lower than she wanted it...and in a ?V? format. Beside the rocking chair were her boots, but cleaned and seemed like new. On the dress, there was a small note for Johnathan.

Welcome to the outside of the Playroom! I promise that this will fit you perfectly. I am probably out in the woods, but you are more than welcomed to meander throughout the house. I will see you before dawn.
~Zen

Suddenly feeling most conciseness of getting changed in what used to be a children?s playroom?and no sign of any kind of river or lake to help her change?she went into the bottom floor changing room and did it that way. Coming back out, she looked down at herself and blinked. The dress was fitting and the neckline stopped at the tip of the yeti?s claw, which was at the center of her sternum. The dress went down to the ankles of her bare feet. Walking over to the rocking chair, she slipped on her boots and blinked. It was unusual for Johnathan to dress herself. She always had the Oceans that she always stayed close to do so. Going into the kitchen, she grabbed one of the familiar mason jars and filled it with water only half way. Pouring the half-filled mason jar of water directly over her head; the curly hair slowly straightened out as the water ran down each hair strand. Her hair never dripped off the water nor did it ever get on the new dress, as if the hair actually soaked it up. Johnathan sighed as she placed the mason jar on the countertop upside-down.

Turning around, Johnathan stared at the front door while still in the kitchen. She stared at it for a good five minutes before making her way across the main floor to the door. She stared at the door for yet another five minutes. She was not prepared to leave, but did gain enough strength to at least go outside. Taking in a deep breath, Johnathan closed those tired dark-brown eyes and held onto the doorknob; turned it and pushed it open. There was a brief breeze, letting Johnathan know that the night air was there to stay for quite some time.

A timid Johnathan welcomed the night air as the raw-leathered footsteps stepped out onto the porch. The forest that the cabin was in was the most unusual forest Johnathan has seen. Oak trees and willow trees surrounded the cabin with a little clearing directly in front of the house with a floral garden. Finally, a small smile came across Johnathan's lips. Walking down to the garden, she breathed in; smelling the honeysuckles and freesia. Slowly looking up to the moon, where it was nearly the new phase, she blinked as her nose twitched a bit.

Not even a minute has passed by before Johnathan heard voices once again. What she did not notice, though, was that once the voice started the frog charm slowly glowed the crystallized green for a moment then slowly changed to a pale-blue glow. Taking no hesitation, Johnathan quickly got up and started walking fast towards the door. Before she reached the porch, Johnathan heard a name that has not been said in so long.

..Nayt...

And that made Johnathan stop dead in her tracks. Her heart was leaping as she quickly turned about--expecting a small blue critter to come crawling out of...somewhere. But alas, nothing. The dark-brown eyes scanned about the surrounding of the cabin and the garden as she took small and cautious steps back towards the garden. The tattoo-like scar soon started to itch in which Johnathan did start to scratch, only for a moment; but then let the itch be. For she soon enough figured out what it meant. The voices sounded so harmonic, so soothing; as if the voices hypnotized Johnathan. But it was not hypnotism, just a voice she knew oh so well. A voice she fell in love with. Listening to the voices of what they spoke of--which seemed to be...for now...all of her--the soft smile grew. Sitting down upon the floral garden, Johnathan looked back up to the moon. Her mind soon was filled with the memories and reasons she is with Renne. His endless curiosities, the defying strength, his loyalty--even to those who should not have any at all--his compassion of learning, and above all else; to see things when noone else can. Nothing in all of the 'Verses--in her mind--can compare her love to him.

The frog-charm continued to glow the pale-blue color as it soon gave a melodic tone to it--as if to respond the harmonic voices. The melodic tone gave away to the night air, letting it speak of Johnathan's thoughts and memories. Thoughts and memories of laughter, of friendship, and most of all, love.

"Wherever you are, I will be there." ~ Tamia

"So please, tell me about this Renne."

Zen sat down on one of the rocking chairs as she held a warm cup of tea, slowly looking over to Johnathan, who was also settling down in the opposite rocking chair was a mason jar of water in one hand and her other hand in it. Sighing a bit, she took a sip from the cup of tea as the oak brown eyes watched Johnathan with curiosity.

Slowly sitting down onto the rocking chair, Johnathan placed the mason jar on her lap as it was now only three-quarters full. Looking down to the water for a moment, she chuckled a bit with a soft smile upon her face as she looked up to Zen.

"A creature like no other. So much curiosity and so eager to learn all that he wish.es to know. Brings laughter to where'er he may be. Makes sure one is happy. Loyal to all he claims friend..."

She blinked as the smile slowly faded as she looked over to the fire going at a dull roar.

"E'en to those who should ne'er ha'e it in the first place."

Zen never dived into that wound...or anger fest. One of the two. Nodding a bit as her heels pushed against the floor to let the chair rock softly. Taking another sip, she only stayed quiet and let Johnathan continue.

"I ha'e ne'er lo'ed anything nor anyone else more than him. And I ne'er will."

By the time the mason jar was empty, Johnathan looked back to Zen as she finally took out her hand; which let the water seep into her skin.

"How did ye and yer husband meet?"

"A tavern I once took care of. Not far from Fari Village. He was determined to find out why I was unusual. A man of the trees. Seriously, his mother was a dryad and his father was The Green Man of the South. Six months later, he professed his love for me. And I returned the love. Another six months later, I became his wife and was bearing his and my own first child."

Zen always kept a soft smile upon her face. They may be long gone; but she never forgot them.

"How come I found a portrait of ye two and the twins, but not yer first born?"

And for the first time, Zen blinked as she slowly looked down to the now empty cup as the smile faded.

"Before Sillairin was born, there had been a war waging on with a group I was with and the Dark Chaos Lord, Dhaos. Five years have come and gone; losing friends, gaining and losing alliances. Father-Time showed I glimpses of a prophecy...which included the third queen--the good one and my best friend--and my son's deaths. I explained to Silly what was going to happen and he could not sleep for days. Neither could Merrick or myself. A week before the final battle happened, Sillairin accepted his fate that the Sisters gave to him. I will never forget the prophecy. 'Child of the Stars and Child of the Moons. Two night-lights shall soon glow in bloom. Darkness that once blanket the lands will now be awakened and folded.'"

It was the first time in so long that she ever spoke of the prophecy. Looking down to the fire for a moment, she blinked before looking back up to Johnathan.

"After the battle was over, we all mourned. But we continued on with our lives. Two years after the war, I became pregnant again with the twins. Jesickah and Sairah. As the girls grew up, they played with another child. Merrick and I never understood. It was not until about a month before one of my good friends from the palace painted the portrait did they talk to us about the other child. They later explained it was a spirit of Sillairin...and Merrick and I believed them. Years have gone by, have seen even my great-great-great grandchildren grow up. I am the last of them all. But I am here. I do not mind. I know that eventually my time will come to an end...I just have no clue when."

The oak-brown eyes blinked as the soft smile finally came back. There was a small yawn that came from her and with that, Zen slowly stood up and stretched a bit.

"Right now it is well past my bedtime. I bid you a good day, Johnathan."

Johnathan blinked as she looked out to the windows, which showed it was before noon. Giving a look of confusion, she looked back to Zen; who was already closing to the door to her bedroom. Keeping silent, Johnathan looked back to the fire and blinked. Looking down to the opaline-blue ring for a while, she knew that the frog charm slowly turned from a crystallized-green color to a pale-blue; letting a soft melodic tone fill the front area.

"Angel Heart. Please come back to I."