The Tales of the Clouded Leopard


She had been dispatched through the Southern Glen to a far corner distantly positioned from the Institute. It had not escaped the notice of the Shaitan that the Beryl Crow had arrived in RhyDin.

As the industrious people of the fallen world began to carve out their place in this foreign land, she watched.

The farmlands tilled, the village hamlets raised, the estate of the Lord and Lady protected. She watched.

As more refugees arrived and filtered into the steadily growing populace, she watched.

Surprise was a nearly foreign emotion for the hengeyokai and it took much to initiate such a response. But as she watched and waited, the foremost object of their fascination actually slept within the halls of the Institute. Passing him on his return path she could not contain the chuffing sound of a coughed shock. But again, she did nothing but watch.

Later when he was abducted, she made no move to interfere. Bound by the dictates of her mission. She simply watched.

In a Distant Past of a Distant Realm...

Blood eked from the gash in the man's side. A slow ooze of ebon-laced crimson. She had wondered if it was the Shard that had poisoned his bloodstream or if it were part of his own nature that caused his blood to appear thickly dark.

But that thought had been dismissed on a wave of triumph. Finally, after months of hardship, her people would have their first victory. One of the Shaitan would die this day and their precious Shard destroyed in her own strong hand.

Hadrian drew her lips back from her teeth in a snarled smile of victory and thrust her hand into his wound, digging for the ebon crystal that the Covenant prized so highly. The flesh parted beneath her forceful hands, the man's howl of agony doing nothing to subside her search. Elation was hers when the solid surface slid teasingly beneath her fingertips immersed in the bloody meat of his innards.

"Yes!"

Pulling forth her blood soaked fist she stared in awe at the black ribbon of crystalline power that lay curled in the palm of her hand. The gaping wound she left behind now poured freely and the man she had assaulted uttered a choked groan at approaching death.

She paid no heed to the monstrous villain who had wreaked such havoc on her people. His murderous, psychopathic rampages had destroyed the townships that had once spoke to the pride of the people of Verullus.

Instead she turned her frighteningly proud grin at her husband, his warrior's face mirroring her own. They had battled side by side, swung their swords and raised their shields in defense of their people. She could read the victory in his gaze, the love in his smile, and the shared triumph of the moment. Raising her own blood-stained sword high she let forth a warrior's cry that was echoed by the troops that surrounded them.

"Let us be done with these Monstrous BRETHREN!" Her valiant cry was echoed fiercely.

Her husband strode forward and his sword descended in a cleaving motion that swept the Villain's head from his shoulders.

Grinning on a wave of fiery success, Hadrian turned to face the young liege, "Lord Leoline! For you do I destroy our enemy!"

Focusing her power inward she gathered the arcana that was hers to command and unfurled her fingers from around the shard that pulsated in her palm. She would destroy this relic of the Covenant's.

As her magic flowed forth and pooled around the Shard, she looked up from her task to smile into the loving face of her devoted husband.

There had come an odd sensation, a bubbling warning that she had felt on an arcane level that would resist explanation later in the telling, her last conscious thought before the agony tore her apart was that of her husband and their success.

***********
She awoke screaming, the memory searing her mind with the painful remembrance of her agony.

"It's only a dream. It's only a memory." She panted for each painful breath as she battled for control.

As she slowly settled her pounding heart and her fears she came to a realization that left her stomach clenching...

...it was not her cries that were echoing in the Valley.

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The warrior's instinct drove her to examine the source of the screams. But it was no longer a warrior's body that answered the call. Weakly, she pushed from the bed. A tremor wracked her frail frame as she fought to stay upright once there.

The deep sonic sensation of her frustrated angst was a familiar companion. A day did not go by that she didn't castigate her foolish nature that had left her in this shell of her once powerful body.

It took several deep breaths to still the racing of her heart and then she was able to move. Each step was a faltering shuffle.

Her determination and stubborn temperament kept her stumbling forward as she stopped long enough to grab a weapon of some kind.

Quiet.

It was all that he wanted to give to her. Her soul had been so tarnished by the evil of the Shaitan that it seemed she was never at peace, so when he was able to supply her with some sort of tranquility, he was nearly overwhelmed with a sense of accomplishment. He closed the large windows near the bed so that the children could play outside without disturbing her and, after pulling up the sheets around her shoulders, he carefully made for the door. Dragidar moved with light steps, not wanting his girth to cause floorboards to groan, and as he stepped out the door he slowly drew it closed. Even beyond her doorway he moved with cautious steps until fully down the hall, where he resumed his soldier's march toward the main living area, needing to find the Lady of the Estate.

And with the easy simplistic grace of one attuned to her people's needs, Lady Meleigh was awaiting the large and imposing figure. Her slim form stood at the end of the, adorned in one of the stunning dresses dyed by their very own people. The color today was a moonswept lilac that alternated with silver threads. She shimmered with each small gesture. Normally a slightly repressed ruler, she hid nothing from this great man who was a hero to his people, her smile brilliant as she slipped forward to twine an arm about his in a half-hug, her voice lowered to a whisper as she inquired after the legendary figure whom he had just left, "How is she doing?" There was a ribbon of pain in the words as she knew the answer but still never failed to ask, hoping beyond hope that someday there would be a miracle. Someday, the vivacious and brilliant warrior would step forth from her bed, repaired.

Dragidar had forgone the donning of his breastplate and spaulders, which was becoming a normal occurrence when tending to his wife, Hadrian. The last thing he wanted was for her to stumble into him and accidently break a brittle bone or tear thin flesh. A simple tunic gathered at the waist by a wide belt and dark breeches that bled into boots made up his attire, though still he towered with a looming presence of menace. As he entered into the room and found the form of the Lady awaiting his arrival he offered her a sharp smile that was customary to his stone-like features. He returned the embrace, the thick strength of a single arm coiling around her slight frame to hold her against him, to feel her warmth. He did not let go immediately, keeping her close seemed to be a beacon beyond the insanity of their geas. "She is ...well." He said weakly, lacking conviction or faith. He released her then and took a step back to peer down at his lovely ruler. "She is sleeping now. She values her rest, as do I. If you have a moment, I'd like to speak with you?"

"And if I did not have a moment I would most assuredly find one for you, Dragidar." The soft words sincere as she smiled up at this great warrior who inspired all. Surely his vast size in comparison to hers, combined with his imposing stature, should have unnerved her but she had nothing but great respect and concern for him. His love for the once fiery Hadrian had proven his humanity and any who knew them both could not doubt the honor that this great man carried with him. Motioning to the chair astride from hers and the small tray of cheeses, meats, and fruits, she settled down across from him in a rustle of her skirts. She was thankful beyond her normal capacity, for he offered a distraction from the heady mix of confused arousal that seemed to accompany her endlessly these days.

Her words were kind, though it did not show across his rough visage. He took the offered seat across from her and glanced at the tray of food. It looked rather tempting, though his appetite simply wasn't what it once was...like most things. As with many military men, he sat with a straight posture, shoulders back, hands folded in his lap. His dark eyes were intensely upon her, conveying a seriousness in prelude of their conversation. "First, let me thank you for opening your home to us. Hadrian loves the cottage and the solitude, though I think the warmth of friends and family still has its place. She has been very happy while visiting." He raised a massive fist to his mouth and cleared his throat, a residual habit that had formed due to the constant threat of tears. "If you don't mind, highness, I would like to take charge of the efforts in finding Lord Leoline and Lord Lachlan. A great deal of burden and weight has fallen upon your shoulders. I would like to help alleviate at least some of it; with your permission, of course."

She knew this was coming. Had dreaded it in fact. She had spent hours internally fighting with herself before arriving at her decision. It had not been an easy rationalization to arrive at and nor had it been particularly pleasant to arrive at this conclusion. Like most things that Meleigh dealt with, she did so square on, never one to dance around or conceal the truth. "I'm going to have to deny you your request Dragidar even as it pains me greatly." She kept those icy blue eyes locked on his, not shying away from the confrontation in the slightest. "I. No, We. We need you here. I can't begin to imagine what could possibly have restrained Lord Leoline from our home in such a crucial time, and we both know that anything that draws Lord Lachlan away from his children cannot be good. What am I to do? Send yet another of my staunch warriors out into the unknown? I cannot risk this resource in such a strange world. More refugees continue to pour in from our ravaged homeworld and with them the need for more structure," A pained flicker, "more experienced soldiers to institute this structure. Additionally..." She had a difficult time here and felt her gaze slip away from his. It was rare to see Meleigh fumble, and she hid it beneath a smooth search for a drink of water as if her throat were parched.

Because his demeanor was innately dispassionate, when irritation struck it was extremely evident. His eyes narrowed, a sight that many of his enemies had seen just moments before his vicious deathblow, and again he cleared his throat. "May I ask as to why?" It was a question, and yet with his commanding inflection, it sounded much more like a demand - though never would he openly speak to the Lady of de Montesquieu in such a way. Even in anger, his heart and honor were hers. "I tend to my wife, lady. I see to it that she is kept peaceful and at ease. It is hard to do here, with you drowning beneath a burden meant for many. You are only one, lady. Your greatness reaches beyond the workings of this estate...of this sanctuary...and yet the air is thick with your unease." He tilted his head as he continued to watch her, even as she sought the quenching refreshment. "Your eyes are heavy with worry. With stress. My beautiful Hadrian can feel this, and because of that she has started to worry as well. Not because she fears you are unfit to handle the troubles, but because she believes that she is worthless to offer aid. It may sound gallant, lady, but my request is purely selfish. I wish to make the Lady Adair's time more peaceful." He paused before adding. "...and yours as well."

She knew he wouldn't let it go. She was more than aware of the personalities of her people. Meleigh never forgot a name. Never forgot a quirk. Tended to see through any attempts to disassemble. She knew that Dragidar was not going to simply accept her denial of his aid just as she knew this next bombshell would undoubtedly change everything. She wished Leoline was here to help her with this. The thought infuriated her, her anger at her missing husband had been growing into a smoldering ball of hard resentment. Her position was an impossible one. And he had put her in it. She should've known that there was no way her husband was going to simply let the destruction of their world stand. This 'refuge' had become a land of incredible danger and she had no one else to share this burden. The icy water soothed the hard knot in her throat barely at all and she returned her gaze to his directly, aware of the effect her next statement was going to have, "I have confirmation that we are not alone on this new realm. Our enemy is present." A shaky breath betrayed her composure, "The Shaitan are here."

He had started to lift his hand once more to his lips, though as her words struck him he froze, paralyzed with clarity. He held perfectly still as his mind sorted through the sudden chaos of her claim, and then slowly dropped his hand to once again occupy his lap. "You...they are...?" His head snapped to the side and his eyes instantly went to the door, a rush of concern for the safety of his lady boiling to the surface. He held his seat, though there was a quiver to his great form, and slowly turned back to face Meleigh. "They are here? In Rhy'din? How can you be so sure?"

His concerned pain was a vicious counterpoint to the regret that she had to tell him. But who else could she tell? The people of de Montesquieu were sorely without many of their resourceful leaders, the war had devastated them. And now with Leoline and Lachlan's disappearances, there were but a handful that had the experience she would need to rely on. "I have no doubts." She kept it vague, not about to reveal the location of truth, for Dragidar could very well forget his constraints. "Suffice to say I have been focused on our Estate's defenses for good reason. I need you here. My experience in such areas is not as great as yours and I cannot afford to have you disappear in the same manner as Lord Leoline and Lord Lachlan. I have already sent someone," A hard swallow as the putting of her plans into words revealed the cruelness of them, "-else to track the missing men." Someone less valuable, and therefore replaceable if need be.

"I understand." Dragidar replied with a nod, and in the marble hardness of his stare she saw sincerity. "You are wise beyond your years, lady. I will attend to this estate and help prepare the defenses, and, with your permission, begin training some of the refugees to form a militia in case we ever find ourselves in need. With your pardon, I would like to take Hadrian back to the cottage. She is a warrior and in tune with her instincts. She will know there is something wrong and I while I can manage my knowledge if unspoken, as you well know I could never lie to the Lady Adair if directly questioned." Again his eyes drifted to the door, a potent admiration bleeding through the taut concern. "She should not be here."

Meleigh rose, a gentle sweep of lilac skirts encasing her slender legs. And she curtsied, it was a beautiful statement of the respect and honor she felt for both he and his wife, "I appreciate your understanding in this matter. I know what I shared with you was not easy to hear, and I have no doubts that our words will not venture past this room." Guilt, the constant companion of a ruler, squeezed her generous heart. "I'm incredibly thankful that you're here with us now. And by all means, see to your wife. Whatever she needs that the Estates can provide are yours without asking."

He stood as she did and then lowered at the waist, a bow in response to her curtsy. "Thank you, lady. We'll leave this afternoon and I'll be back in the morning."

The shell of the house protected the heart much like the body of a man would protect his innards.

She paced a slinky path through the snow, weaving and rolling across the surface low to the ground.

Each time she ventured nearer to her newfound fascination. There, within that cottage awaited what was left of the great warrior-woman Hadrian.

The vision of her great sword plunging through her ribs had the clouded leopard chuffing in response. Hadrian and her husband had led a resistance upon another land. They had slaughtered thousands of the Shaitan's minions.

But more importantly than that...they had killed one of the Shaitan's very own.

And they had nearly killed her.

To think that she had found the woman, weakened and unprotected, sent Shieyu into paroxysms of ecstasy.

She should report it.

But she wanted the kill so desperately that she worried it would be taken from her. What if the Mistress of Shades and Shards decided to approach this from a more intrigue-laced direction? Hadrian Adair could be given to the Sierene or the red-skinned lothario.

She chuffed again.

A phantom pain throbbing where she had been skewered years ago. She wanted to kill her now, to rip through the cottage and discover the beating heart inside its skin.

She had prowled ever closer and was trembling with the desires that wracked her when her shard pulsated with the demanding call of the Mistress of Shades and Shards.

No.

Did she know?

The pulsating wave of dark energy nearly dropped the great cat to her belly and Shieyu fought through it.

The door of the cottage sprung open, a weakened and fragile vision of the former warrior leaned inside, "Who is out there?" Her voice wracked with anger and fear, "I can feel you! Show yourself!"

Shieyu, bellydown in the grass, let her tongue loll out in anticipation of the kill. The throb of the shard forgotten for a moment at the sight.

Hadrian waved a hand through the air and chanted and a shimmering aura of protection sprung up on the door of the cottage. Too weak to stand and demand answers she slid back inside and left her magic ward to defend her.

Chuffing, Shieyu recognized what the shaman warrior had done. There was no way through to her in that moment. The cottage was protected. She would have to lure the once-great Hadrian outside. The throb of the shard in her thigh reminded her that she did not have the time for such games.

...but she would return.

A loping run in the direction of Mount Yasuo, her thoughts remained on the cottage and its beating heart.

She'd assisted the student with the discovery of the Kokuri Clan. A formidable group of ancient cambion they were deeply embedded within the world of Rhy'Din.

But such was not her worry. No, the mage and his novitiate were bound to an ancient tradition of hunters and while she could respect it she felt no kinship.

Let the Cambions die.

Let the students die.

Neither was of any importance to her. She was eager to return to the valley that contained Hadrien Adair and as she loped through the forest she trembled with excitement.

Slinking low to the ground, she hugged the terrain as she slipped undetected past scouts who were not looking for animals. Fools. The Shaitan were able to infiltrate in any manner of ways and their patrols turned up only the evidence given to them.

A great cat had passed this way. Not even a significantly large one.

And they dismissed her from memory. Even as she followed memory's blood soaked path to the door of her nemesis.

She prowled the territory before the little cottage and awaited her opening with an eagerness that had her mist-soaked fur coat trembling and rippling.