One could wonder what happened to Mistress Sha'uri. Her absence from the school was blatant over the past several days, ever since the day Briarius came home and felt at peace, perhaps unknowing that his home realm was cut off from him by his own God. It was the price for peace and Sha'uri had paid that price, knowing she'd have to live with it. She'd do it again in a heartbeat. The power she had expended to save Briarius would take her some time to gain back. It had been worth it to destroy Erique and give Briari a chance at a life free of this nemesis. She could only hope that the price had not been too high for Briarius, to lose his connection to his homeland and realm, to his God, and some of his memories. Only time could tell.

Ravensheart school seemed void of activity after that. The forge didn't ring with song by her voice, the alter candles hadn't been lit in the temple, there were no late night kitchen raids ... even her cat was quietly hiding away. But the school had been lacking seriously of more then just that. There were no students and only two who could teach. It seemed to her that more was needed. The more she thought about that very advice she'd given Bri, the more she realized she should take herself up on that and go out to have a little fun for herself. Besides, She couldn't wait to see Jayden a second time and thank him for the advice he'd given her. It had given her the resolve she needed and, in a way, saved more then just herself. That meeting was the beginning to her absence, the silence that fell over the school.

After spending much time in the Red Dragon Inn, the two had fallen to the same conclusion, as did just about everyone else... Jayden and Sha'uri were hopelessly attached. She couldn't believe it herself, yet she couldn't deny it, nor him. He had a way of getting under her skin and wrapping himself around her heart.

Now, it was the next morning after they had decided to move him here. They had planned to do it the previous night, but the two lovers never made it out of his room at the Inn. The morning was half gone by the time they awoke and rolled out of bed. However, neither of them lingered long at the Inn, both seeming to want to get away from the rat race therein. Still, she sensed a slight hesitation on his part though she thought she knew why. Coming to Ravensheart was not just for the two of them.

They had talked about this and she was hoping Briari would hire him on as a teacher. She and Jayden had talked about a lot of things, like the lack of secure policing in and around the Inn. The subject for an academy for Knights had been toyed with between the two and several patrons at the Inn seemed in agreement that it was a good idea to start. She looked to Jayden as her first recruit to this endeavor. She saw a tremendous amount of potential in the strange gunsmith, and regardless of anything else that may or may not happen, she was looking forward to learning about him as a man and seeing how he would develop those talents as a Knight.... suspecting it would be a Knight like no other. She was looking forward to a lot of things with him.


The two were almost like opposites in a manner not quite so opposite at all. She hadn't figured it out herself, but she was willing to spend time to learn. All she knew was that she loved him, was comfortable with him and he had managed to disarm her in more ways then one. That was not something that could be given into by chance or by a whim .... She had guarded against it, yet he managed to win.

Sha'uri walked beside him now as they went down the path towards the school. It didn't bother her that she was two inches taller, for his aura seemed much more then the shell of his body would allow. He wasn't drop dead gorgeous by most women's standards, yet he was by no means ugly. In fact, she didn't adhere to what she knew some others had thought about him.

To Sha'uri, Jayden's every move attracted her to him, the lithe physique and well toned muscle that moved with ease as he carried his heavy pack over his shoulder. But what attracted her most was his personality. She could see it in his eyes, that boyish playfulness. Even his unruly hair held personality in those locks of gold. And yet as she looked deeper into those icy blues, she could see his seriousness and his wisdom. She was awed by the potential therein.

It was hard for her to look away, but she'd trip over her own feet if she didn't.... she still wore Jayden's clothes, never having found her own and really just didn't feel like summoning hers. She liked the feel of his. The school wasn't too far from the Inn, perhaps just a mile or two ... maybe three. She'd never bothered to measure it and hadn't paid attention to how long it took to walk. Perhaps an hour at most. The trail was fairly easy and well kept. It made conversation enjoyable and for the most part she tried to describe the grounds with as much detail as she could, and explain the school's purpose though there weren't' any students just yet.

"The school is just a little way up ahead, around the next bend and up over the hill are the gates. Was there anything you wanted to ask me, Jayden, before we arrive? I know we really haven't talked in-depth. Maybe give yourself a chance to run away...? Now's your last chance."

She was grinning, just teasing him. Still, her steps slowed and came to a stop as she turned to face him. There were things she had yet to tell him and probably should. Time just hadn't allowed and perhaps now was the time ... time to make the time.

Two Months Later...

The trend of torrid weather in the past week had undoubtedly brought along a thunderstorm this night. A brilliant flash illuminated the school hallway, projecting upon the opposite wall- shadows of pillars, and among them the shadow of a phantom, who stood in the window. Droplets of water slid down the strangers hood and worn leather coat to pool upon the upholstery. Once the window was shut securely, pale hands rose up and pulled back the hood to reveal the face of a man, or something else -as human eyes do not normally glow red in the darkness.

He did not yet understand what had brought him here specifically, but he had recognized the structure from some distant memory... Yet at the moment, he needed shelter for the night and, having found this place, needed to address his wound. Reaching for his collar, he unzipped his coat all the way. Unmindful that he was shirtless beneath, he eyed the sword wound inflicted just beneath his collar bone on the left side. Reaching over his shoulder, he felt a similar wound on his back directly behind the former. Treading lightly through the hall now, he considered all the logical locations for the infirmary. Then he happened upon an evacuation plan hung along the passageway, and, tracing the arrows in the opposite direction, he located the infirmary.

It was supposed to be a standard operation. Locate and recover the relic. Eliminate any guardians that get in the way. The relic would be studied and archived before most likely getting locked away beneath the Vatican like many other heretical artifacts in the possession of the Church. In retrospect, the mission had been strange from the very beginning, yet he had chosen to dismiss the minor agitation of his instincts and proceeded with the objective.

The details are fuzzy now as those memories took place many lifetimes ago. However, the dates indicated that it had only been two months since his departure. By his count, he had been away for sixty six years, seven months and two days.. wandering the barren landscape of purgatory aimlessly in all that time.

Several days ago, he awoke in his mortal body, pulled the sword out of his body, and proceeded to walk northward. He hasn't slept since. His mind was preprogrammed during combat conditioning to direct him towards safety even when fatigue or damage renders coherent thought difficult. Safety. His coat was well worn down from the trip, his denims distressed, and his boots sand blasted.. Altogether, the look was on par with today's fashions, except this was mere coincidence as one considers what is practical for a long walk through the dessert.

The sound of various clamps and metal tools being set against a metal tray eminated from the infirmary. Drawing the string taught with the pliers, he cut it, leaving his wounds adequately stitched up and dressed. A look in the mirror confirmed that he had done a similar job on the backside. All he could think of now was to get things cleaned up and leave before he was discovered. He had to wash the blood from the tools and the sheets. He had to avoid any activities that might reopen his wounds for the time being. He needed to get out of here. He needed to get out...

Jayden slumped over on the floor and faded into blissful sleep.

Through the high powered binoculars, the objective seemed so close that he could reach out and touch her. His shoulders sagged a bit at the prospect of another uneventful night. The Council sometimes went overboard directing special ops agents to escort their family members and mistresses.

Raising the binoculars again, he caught sight of an assailant in the next window, who seemingly entered by force. Before the binoculars struck the ground, Jayden was out the door. In the busy street below, he maneuvered through the foot traffic, but as he turned a blind corner, he struck a man and sent his belongings flying into the air. There was no time to apologize when he took off, with several hundred meters left to go. He reached the apartment with his weapon drawn and kicked open the door, entering the apartment. Strange. There was no signs of a struggle. Suddenly, the assailant came up from behind and tried to reach for his gun. In the next moment, the assailant, who turned out to be the woman, lay on the ground dead. The struggle for the weapon must've lead to the premature discharge of his weapon, but it didn't matter: he was already in survival mode. He wiped down the weapon and placed it in her hand to make it seem like a suicide. Looking around, to his horror, he found dozens of pictures of him lying about. Glancing out the window, he saw a man looking back at him. He must have witnessed the murder. Police sirens were heard in the distance. He scrambled to collect all the pictures in a grocery bag and checked the scene once over before exiting. Once the street, he blended into the crowd, matching their slow shuffle.. growing more and more anxious of being caught in the open. Turning the corner, he was nearly back to base then CRASH! Some punk hadn't been watching where he was going when he ran into Jayden, sending his grocery bag with its contents onto the sidewalk. As he shuffled on his knees, gathering the encriminating evidence, he thought back to the man who he'd run over in his tradgic dash to save woman. He looked up at his own apartment. There he spied a man looking out of his window with a pair of large binoculars...

It was then that he realized that he had been here before.

"Where am I?"

"Blast ye 't the nine hells... That's where ye belong..! " He heard a woman's voice shout.

"Hell?"

Light began to intrude on his consciousness, forcing its way past shut eyelids. When they began to reluctantly open, he found himself looking up at the ceiling. And what in the devil..?

Raising his head off the floor, he came face to face with a cat, who'd apparently decided that his chest was a better perch than the cold, hard floor. It may have had a point. One thing was certain: this mortal body would take some readjusting to. When wandering as a soul across the limbo, one does not need to pack a lunch. Now the hunger manifested in the form of gut wrenching abdominal growling. The cat tilted its head out of curiosity as to why it suddenly looked at with those hungry eyes.

The cat was run out of hisses by now as they returned back to the school. Bruised ego was right, and evident in the little growls she eminated. But the sausage had been fair trade.

Meanwhile, the cook had gone looking for the cat again. She'd found the trail of blood and brandished a nearby sword from a display of them. Following the trail into the infermary, she found the end and nearly fainted with fear for obvious reasons. She had no clue how to use the sword for one, and two....where was the source of the blood? There were no furballs to blame the poor cat with and even so, where was she now? After several long moments, there was no sign of anyone.

She cleaned up the mess and moved to place the sword back in it's place upon the display in the hallway. It was then she noticed the tall figure outside, a cat, bearing Sabre's description, was in his possession. She grabbed the sword once again and headed down to ambush the guy.

Legs spread, up onto her tippy toes and body bent at the waist and her arms flailed wildly just to get her balance back again. She spun round as smooth as a dancer, hazel green eyes open wide gazing after the tall one. His 6'4" frame towered over her 5'7" form. Her jaw nearly dropped as she watched that blasted cat go after him...

"Well I'll be..." she muttered, beginning to wonder if it were the promise of food he offered or that Sabre knew this one. It wasn't every day that Sabre would just curl up to or follow just anyone so easily. That usually meant that Sha'ui knew them.

"All right then ya better be savin some fer the rest 'o the crew! And yer doin the dishes too. An it ain't potatoes!"

she mutteres, "It's noodles... home made, thick and done right... beef 'n egg noodles o'er mashed potatoes an whole wheat buttermilk buiscuits with real butter 'n honey...."

A fist was shaken their direction. "I mean it! Ye an that blasted cat!"

She stared after that tall form, grinning enough to show off those dimples and tucking a strand of chestnut brown hair behind her ear.

"Oh hell... have what ye will."

She gave in and followed them, jogging to catch up and lead them, "This way....to the kitchen. So how long 'ave ye known Sha'uri?"

((I swear I posted a similar response as this one and it was up and showing. But for some reason it isn't showing up now. So in case it shows up later, I appologize for any confusion.))