Topic: Scarred: Fairy and Mage

SillyFae

Date: 2010-10-05 16:16 EST
Far, far beyond the realm of corporeal existence in the web of dreaming, Shang slept in an empty plot amongst the strange, ethereal field that held the dreamer's dreamscape orbs*. Such a stasis was rare for the little fairy, yes, but required from time to time, yet as she slept, the winged darling remained bright and coronal as any proud star; her mana never rested, only calmed and recollected while the body it lived in replenished.

While unconscious, the fae was not connected to the minds of the millions she visited as they slept; she was, however, very much like a leaf on the surface of a pond. Although not connected to the thoughts of the fish swimming below her, the leaf is still very much a slave to the currents their unrest cause in the pond she floats on. This was Shang, this had always been her and the reality of her relationship to the dreamers of the world whether she be sleeping or not. This connection had been leaving her with an uneasy feeling as of late, for there were a great number of dreamers whose dreams were prickling with an unknown energy. Such a thing would not normally be a bother to the fae, for every mind spiked and bottomed out from time to time, but these minds were different; they were always humming, and in that humming an unusual darkness seemed to be growing.

These disturbing feelings and uneasy prickles followed Shang to sleep, and worse, caused her to awaken early.

Blinking the sleep from her eyes, a shiver overcame her small form, one with strength enough to give her the illusion of cold. And not just any cold either. Oh no. Shang was used to the normal as well as the abnormal when it came to cold, but this cold was the not sort of cold that made one seek cloak and flame, but the kind that made one seek the warmth of the familiar and comfortable.

Something was wrong, dreadfully wrong, yet the bemused demi fae could not quite puzzle out what.

"... Mama will know." She murmured quietly as she turned her large, wondering eyes towards the seemingly endless glow of dream baubles. Why did so many of them look dark lately? Perhaps it had something to do with that odd chill and slow, creepy crawl of power she'd felt rustling through so many minds as of late.

"Shang must tell Pretty too... If Pretty has not already noticed." Shang mused aloud again to herself as she thought of her icy friend and his epic quest amongst the dreamscapes. Yes, he'd most certainly have noticed by now, wouldn't he have? In the same thought, she realized he would not have, no, not quite yet. The creep was oh so slow, and while sharp, Shang knew that Celeth did not have the intimate knowledge of the dreamer's realm as she did.

Still shivering, Shang slowly unfolded herself from her sleeping position, straightened, and with one delicate little finger, sliced into the air with a slow, eerily precise stroke. As she moved back the air her hand had moved through shaped to become a tangible thing, like a hole cut into a curtain one could step through to the other side...

With a determined, albeit worried face, Shang did just that, not even bothering to watch as the portal sealed up behind her.

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http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs12/i/2006/296/a/7/Dreamscape_Sunset_by_psion005.jpg

*Ethereal Field and Dreamscape Orbs:

The ethereal field is the 'backstage area' between dreamer's dreams in which Shang and her other fae brethren move to reach a specific dream that needs 'influence'. Depending on the situation, either a specialized or generalized fae will go to said specific dream to perform whatever duty it is they must to put it right/implant the proper influence. The field is a webby, tunnel-like structure whose space, color, design, and shape are as infinite as existence is. So long as people sleep and dream, the moon goddess(mother of all the dream fae) will always have the power to keep and guard the structure. Where the field opens up, there is a great, empty space where the moon goddess' palace, Mare Serenitatis, floats.

The dreamscape orbs are the ball shaped portals where people's dreams lay. Inside the bubble looking structure is infinite space; as one's dreamscape is infinite in possibility, so too is their space. Like the ever shifting color of the ethereal field, the dreamscape orbs are also subject to size and color changes. Colors often depict moods and give the fae a general idea of what sort of dream a person is having. Shang and other fae like her have the ability to enter and exit either side of these orbs, meaning they are also a passageway for them to the land/world/dimension of the dreamer, and the ethereal field.

SillyFae

Date: 2010-10-12 14:03 EST
Since her concerns and misgivings were so minute, Shang had decided not to yet bother her icy companion with it. Conferring with the moon goddess, however, was something she did do, if only to alert her ?mama? as to what she planned on doing. And what Shang had planned to do was try to locate a source or likeness to the creepy creeping that?d begun to leech into dreamer?s realm.

To the eensy fairy?s surprise, the moment she entered the conscious realm and the center of Rhydin city, the entire area seemed blanketed by the eerie cold. It felt as if the ground were covered in a fine, rolling mist, yet there was not a cloud to be seen. Shang did not notice the black ribbons some passers-by were sporting, because a great collection of the cold, creeping dark was pulsing behind her somewhere in the city. Determined and straight faced, the pale, winged damsel took flight and found her destination was deceptively sweet? The source of the darkness was one of her favorite bakery shops, Teas and Tomes.

Many a chink and gaping cranny existed in even the most soundly structured of buildings, so it did not take her long to find an entrance that wouldn?t alert whomever was inside. Creeping down along the wall, Shang focused and let her body melt to the scheme of the rocky, artfully crafted walls around the shop?s fireplace. Shadows always hid one the best, even if they made the mistake of moving; the firelight was sure of that. It wasn?t long after she settled her little chameleon self in that Shang found the source in company with two smaller pricks of cold and dark; two women to be exact.

The trio spoke of unconscionable things; killing, torture, and plans that meant within the span of twenty-four hours, the whole city would be subject to terror. With each cool, amused exchange the big pulse of cold and his lesser pulses had, Shang found herself growing more and more upset. All these plans, all these mean schemers? These people, and what sounded like many more, were the reason that even while the world slept they were not safe. Their reach had dipped so far that even the sanctity of one?s dreams were not beyond corruption. There were not many things that angered the sweet, bubbly little fae, but the tainters of dreams were one of them.

Suddenly filled with purpose, Shang stood up a little straighter, and placing tiny hands on tiny hips, she gave the dark eyed man a look; proud and fearless as she was pint sized. "Pretty is cold." She announced slowly. The inflection in her speech when she said the word 'pretty', implied she was speaking to Travanix, as if that were his name. Those big, almond eyes turned towards Eiellani then, and widened. "Pretty's pretty is cold too..." Her bell sweet voice trailed as her eyes swiveled to Amber, nose wrinkling. "Pretty smells cold.? Shang paused as her throat began to dry up from the sudden rush of nerves.


"... why?" She added in that strained voice, unintentionally showing the curiousness and innocent, personal sense of injury that had prompted her to peek about in the first place.

Silence? They?d ignored her at first.

Confusion warred with her curiosity; it came with the talk of death, though it'd already been there from the creepy, live creature of cold that seemed to blanket the building. After all, that?d been what had drawn the tiny fae there in the first place. Shang didn't dare move closer, not anymore. The distance she'd chosen for herself seemed good enough despite the slow, nervous fan of her wings. Picking at her fingers now, the fae found herself more and more conflicted as the room thinned. The conversation was still going on, but seemed to be going nowhere at the same time. They spoke of death and suffering and pain with an air of nonchalance, as if they were two children talking blocks and not adults with too serious eyes and chilly airs about them.

Slowly, tentatively, she bent down and picked up what looked to be a still shelled chestnut. Given her place on the mantel, it was quite likely a treat someone had intended to crack to get at the meat, but had long been forgotten. Winding her arms around the great nut, she gave it a hurl towards the table the two had sat at; an experiment more than an exercise in aim.

The chestnut was what finally prompted Travanix and his company?s dark eyes to move towards the fae and assess her much more thoroughly. ?I would advise unless you want to find out how it feels to have your wings pulled off, you come down and appologize for being rude.? He murmured in that cold, even tone of his.

Those aforementioned wings gave a nervous, reactionary flicker but Shang stayed her place on the mantel, head shaking. "Shang will not come down... Pretty is cold. Pretty is the source of the cold that touches the dreamers in their sleep." Her response was cryptic to the wrong ears, yes, but their was no mistaking the seriousness in her small voice.

Pointing to the chestnut, her nose wrinkled as she added. "Just like that."

Apparently, Travanix was the chestnut, and the table whatever it was he'd disturbed.

?Come here, little one. Tell me of your cold dreams?? He invited her in a deceptively gentle tone. Having been around this mudball long enough, Travanix found he could decrypt even most skewed ramblings.

Asked once, denied; asked twice, and Shang caved a little and met the strange man with his strange company halfway. Lifting up, she zipped down onto a nearby couch back, her eensy legs folding as elbows rested on her knees.

"They're black lately... very black, very cold. It is not their normal state. Why are you cold like their disturbed states, Shang wonders." Those big almond eyes narrowed to suspicious slits as she eyed the man, and in turn, again, his company.

The dark lord?s company had raised eyebrows, but both Amber and Eiellani figured Travanix must have had some kind of grasp on what the fae was pandering about in her tiny, crystal sweet voice.


Travanix chuckled at her explanation. ?Tell me my small one, what do you see just before they go black...Anything at all??

Shang shook her head again, but this time a bit more furiously. "Shang cannot speak of what dreamers dream... Shang is a keeper and weaver." Pointing a single finger to the man, she pressed.

"The cold is like you, Shang wants to know why so she and Pretty can weave the dreams better. They are not righting themselves like normal." She spoke the word 'pretty' as a name, unlike earlier, it was not directed to Travanix this time, but someone not with her; a friend. Wound up in her urgency, Shang moved closer once more; this time to the table top, if only so her deep, smoky eyes could grind up better into Travanix?s dark auburn ones.

?I am afraid I cannot allow them to be made right. Someone may see something? I am not ready for them to see.? As he spoke, he moved, and jar came down on top of the fae, his means to her in place. It was a start, he though, to at the least to contain the situation. Dreamers could be so bothersome. And on the eve of one of his greatest operations since coming to this mud ball, he was leaving nothing to chance.

Despite the new jar prison he'd encased her in, the fae seemed awfully calm. She stared at him with those big eyes of hers, fingers laying to the glass as she spoke; her voice now muffled, obviously, by the translucent cage around her.

"Mama and Pretty will not like that Dark Eyes has put Shang in here." There was a warning in her voice, one that did not fit her serene, almost sweet expression.

Without warning, the bottom began to melt and fuse, bending and deforming the jar until it seal up with only the smallest of holes for air. This caused Shang to hop from foot to foot for a moment as she deftly avoided getting her dainty toes caught in the molten glass. This made Travanix chuckle, however.

?Do not worry little fae... Once I have started, there is no dream that can save you.? That chuckle turned to a dark laugh as the glass prison he?d created levitated to his now extended hand. ?Perhaps if you are good, I may let you out unharmed instead of torturing you.?

"Dark eyes... is doing bad things with this cold." There was no sweetness now in Shang?s voice; her tiny features were pinched in anger, and the fanned set of fingers she?d set to the glass curled into a fist. Once her fist had balled, a slow, even build of power began to creep around the fae from inside out. The lord?s brow knitted as he focused on the creature? No.

There was no slow creep of power, it was as if the fae were lowering a curtain she'd been keeping up to hide what was lurking behind it. Power. Lots of it. Power that was raw, and bright, and seemingly fathomless; within that power, several veins had been attached into it; one feeding, the other two siphoning out into other sources of magic.

Connected? Yes. The little fae was a living, breathing, and glorified conduit of raw mana. Unfortunately, these realizations came too late, and they were the only warning Travanix would have as the glass fogged over and crackled with live frost.

Pnk, tnk, CRACK.

The jar did not stand for the frost, nor the too-bright powerhouse within; it shattered.

Each shard of glass stopped but a few millimeters before they reached Travanix, and his eyes now bled into a violent red glow. With his one hand under the jar, and the other above it, his fingers began to convulse.

?My, my, you are a tiny but powerful thing. Impressive. But what can you do against true darkness...? The chill that?d long since permeated the air became focused and moved towards her wings, grasping each one in a vice.

"No!" Shang cried, and like the frost and power, her sudden growth came without warning. Behind the blink of an eye, within the space of a thought, her impossible smallness of five inches became fifteen feet. Unfortunately? the damage was already done even as the ceiling and table suffered her sudden explosion of size. Travanix too, suffered a bit of chaos as well. In fact, it was enough to send him through the air and the window in one felt thrust. The resounding crash and Shang?s whine shook the building. Just like when she was miniscule in scale, Shang was nude save for that fountain of milky curls; quite the site for Travanix, his company that?d long ago chosen a safer vantage point, any poor passerby alike. Amazingly however, over in the far corner of the shop, an old, wizened figure still slept on, snoring loudly.

Smirking, Travanix was smirking when he hit the ground. Because while it would probably take a moment for the fae to learn, she?d eventually realize the reason for her pain was not only from her head and rump bashing into things, but that her wings were now quite torn.

The learning process didn't take her nearly as long as thought though; the agony was great as it was immediate, and unfortunately, not one she was unfamiliar with. Reaching up, she found her fingers came away red and wet.

Inhibited by the size of the building while so large, Shang forced her body to change again, although this time it grew smaller, not larger. Just as instantly as she'd shot up, she shrank down, not to five inches mind you, but five simple feet. As close to a human in size as she?d ever be, and shivering, Shang turned to Travanix with wide, pain bright eyes. The abalone splendor of her wings hunkered down and gingerly furled in on themselves as she spoke.

"S-shang and pretty and mama and her siblings will find a way to fix the dreamers... Mama will not allow them to be kept in the cold and the black!" The end of her voice was a sob as she took slow steps backwards towards the sleeping man still happily snoring away in his corner.

She was easy to hear from his sprawled, low lying vantage outside on the cold dirt, and what she said had him laughing in that dark, maniacal tone. Sitting himself up, he watched as Shang turned towards the elderly man still fast asleep, unharmed, and in the far corner of the building. He watched as she murmured softly so the snoring would cease and the shifting stilled. He watched as one of her shaky hands extended and traced a fine, slow line through the air above the sleeper's head.

The sleeper was her portal.

Limping up with the utmost care, Shang dove in without hesitation, and her escape way sealed up without a single seam left behind. In fact, the only evidence of the fae's passing were the bright flecks of blood that'd dripped down and landed at the old, sleeping man's feet; nothing more.

Travanix finally stopped laughing as he stood up and began brushing himself off. Intensely amused, he spoke aside to his companions as they came out from their far wall retreat and spied him through the shattered window. ?That was far more delightful then it should have been??

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http://fc08.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2010/283/8/4/abhorrent_by_songoftheday-d30hp5k.jpg

OOC Note: Many thanks to AmberShadow, Eiellani, and Lord Travanix for this adapted log. Couldn't have made it without that fun bit of play.

SillyFae

Date: 2010-10-13 01:49 EST
A sharp, ripping pain awakened Celeth from his somnatir; it was a rare sight even for those who'd spent their lives with one of the Vindra order. It was a dreamless state far beyond sleep, and with one as practiced as he, it was near perfect stasis. Still, orbs of ice opened and he leapt from his bed, immediately searching the main room of the ship, then expanding his mind to spread a scrying net as far as he could. He knew the source of the pain immediately, as there was only one soul in the world he'd ever shared such a link with.

"Shang?" His voice was pained, desperate.

"SHANG!"

Far, far away beyond the realm of consciousness, Shang stumbled through the endless field of viscous dream baubles. She'd just barely made it through the old man's dream, serene as it was, without leaving the man with visions of broken faries and bloody handprints. Resting now on hands and knees in that never ending field, Shang felt the ethereal material beneath her bend and bow, the silky feel of the surface beneath her rippling with the muffled sound of her name. She'd meant to make it back to the hovel at the center of the realm where her mother resided, but it seemed that Celeth was going to find her first. A rare sensation of fear trickled down the fae's back as she realized how desperate he sounded... how angry he'd be. Stifling a sob, she reached for the air and dropped her hand through it, tracing a new portal. The blue man would see her hair first before anything, and it was hovering from his ceiling. It wasn't long before Shang dropped down entirely with new best friend gravity behind her.

The sorcerer moved too fast for any normal being, aided by mana pouring through every limb, every muscle. Positioning himself directly beneath the portal from which she appeared, Celeth caught her, only to almost drop her at the sight of her torn wings and bloody hands. "Irigar's hammer... what... what happened to you?" His eyes glowed with a restless, tumultuous light, rage and fury carved into his face.

"Who did this?"Slowly, gently, he carried Shang to his bed, attempting to lay her down on her stomach, the only way he could think to position her and not further aggravate the wounds.

"Shang didn't want to tell Pretty..." She mumbled quietly as she pressed her cheek into the bed. Tears welled in her eyes, but whether they were from pain or shame was up in the air; the better guess was that it was a combination of both. Shang remembered a time not too long ago that she'd been hurt and actually came to Celeth, this time however she'd tried so hard not to. Then their was the sharp ache and stinging pain that coursed through her back; it was the sting of air over open wounds that still trickled fresh. Though the mage was not a master of fae anatomy, it did not take too long an inspection to see that healing would be no easy feat. The wings were torn in some places, or missing pieces, what little left that wasn't holed or ripped were frayed; it was clear that whatever had her in it's grasp had nearly succeeded. "... Shang found the one responsible for the creeping cold and the black that has been clouding the dreamscape."

"You what?" Aghast, he stared hard into her eyes, disregarding the wounds altogether, for the moment. "You went alone? Damn it..." His fists clenched and released as he forced himself to breathe deep and calm himself. "...Shang..." Finally, his voice softened and he sat next to her on the bedside. "I can't protect you if you run off without me. You know that it takes power... true power... to do something like this. What possessed you to go after him alone?"

Keening quietly, Shang averted her eyes from him quite pointedly, choosing instead a much safer place to keep her stare, the far wall. "Shang didn't mean to... No. No.. Just look, just follow. But he was so dark and inky cold." Her voice grew heavy as she thought back, still a bit angry on top of all the world of hurt she was in. "Not ice cold.. No. Dead cold, mean cold, evil... He was talking about killing people!" She was rambling a bit at that point, but there was genuine fear lighting the backs of her eyes. Her wings flicked a bit, an involuntary motion she instantly regretted as she bit into the sheets.

Shaking his head, Celeth almost dismissed the mention of killing; it meant nothing to him. He himself had killed many, and life had never held much value to him, aside from his own and that of his one companion, who was covered in blood. "Was it him who did this to you? Tell me everything, Shang. I must destroy this man." The ice of his eyes had turned to liquid, and heat began to emanate from his body. Rage poured from every word. "Not only has he harmed you, but he threatens to endanger your entire realm... and he endangers my plans. I cannot allow him to continue."

Despite the gentleness in which he'd asked her to help him, Shang still felt reluctant; she knew Celeth would kill this man. Although the fae was no fool about death and what it entailed, nor what it meant to sacrifice for the greater good, there was something weighing on her conscience about being the one to give the word to sign this man's life away, evil or no. The pain hit her again, and with a slow nod of her head, Shang began to speak again. "He feels just like the cold and the dark that's been creeping... It oozes around him like a big black hole." Chewing on her lip, she rolled her eyes back up to Celeth sadly.

"He has dark eyes... Brown and auburn gold. But. But they turn red. Horrible red. Shang has felt his power, and it is deep... Very deep. He is not old nor young, but of middling years.. Shang was at the sweets and books store when she saw him, but he seemed to be traveling towards the edge of the city.. Out further with his lady comrades." She shook her head, her little hands fisting in the sheets. "... they felt like him. Cold.. dark. Bad."

The image was starting to take form, but it was not enough. He had to be certain, had to know his target beyond the shadow of a doubt. A warm, almost too warm, gently took the fairy's and his eyes closed tight. "Show me through your eyes, Shang." The words themselves were an invocation, and a circle of mana completed when he touched the other hand to her forehead. He drew from her the very power he used to summon the precise memory, every last detail. It was a testament to his compassion, even if it was only for her, that he shielded the vision from her so she would not be forced to live it again.

Although confused, Shang was if nothing else, ever the accommodating creature. Even had she not felt the rise and hum of his power, she still wouldn't have flinched. She lay still for him, and with what little control she could summon, released the tight, worried hold that'd taken her mind astray. She relaxed, both physically and mentally, and exhaled as deeply as she could. The exercise in itself was enough to calm her, and the tension that surrounded her ruined wings even eased. Feeling her heart, she willed it slower, wishing it sweetly to calm it's furious pace, whispering on the inside as one might whisper to a tempered infant. Through the calm was where Travanix lay, where his power lingered and shaped the darkness about him in ways normal eyes could never ever see; a black mass, an ambitious monster with his fingers in every inch he could find. Shang had simply feared when he'd close his massive fist, and whether it would destroy the world she held so dear.

Concern for Celeth was there too; he'd worked so hard, she cared for him so deeply. In her mind, the mage wasn't icy at all, in fact, his skin was almost warm enough in tone one would expect it to be the same in touch. Little invisible hands held his image close, as if willing his protection against the slow, creeping invasion. She'd remembered the temptation he'd fallen to, the power that'd once gripped him. Deep down, Shang feared losing him to that evil she'd stolen him from.

Patiently he watched the events unfold, but the rage soon boiled over and he stood quite suddenly, seizing his robes and enchanting them with layer upon layer of shielding before putting them on.

"You are wounded, and you must rest, Shang. Please do not follow me. I will kill this man and this will all end." Already he was scrying, searching, eyes both magical and psychic in nature poring over every inch of the city to find the one who had done this to her.

"Celeth... Shang wants to go with you." Protesting weakly as she watched the determination take ahold of her friend's face, the little fae began to loosen the tight, fisted hold she had on the sheets beneath her. It wasn't long before she was making an attempt to sit up, pushing against the mattress and struggling with the sounds that threatened to squeak out as the tightness began returning to her muscles. "Please. No going alone... Shang can still help."

Celeth shook his head firmly. "No. You're already hurt, and I... I cannot lose you, Shang. I was content to let the fools play war and spend the days with you in the dreamscape... but now that he knows what you are, this man will seek to use you, just as I once did. I do not know his forces or strength, and I will not risk you falling into his hands, should they be enough to swarm me."

There was more than simple prudence in his tone - it was laden heavily with compassion and even the slightest hint of fear. "Please. You must rest and recover. Encase yourself in your shell, just as you did before, and sleep. It ... breaks me to see you hurt, Shang."

Her voice broke in a sob as she looked up at him, and not just because she'd given up on rising from the bed. "Shang does not want to wake and find pretty one of the dead that dark man plans on making." Her shoulders slumped down as she tried to relax her back again, but found it near impossible. The fear of losing him was real, as real as the blood drying beneath her nails. She remembered the runes, she remembered the corruption that'd had him bound before.

"... Shang can heal later, Shang promises she will." Though she kept insisting, there was a definite drawl to her tone now; her body was shutting down, it knew what it needed as surely as the mage did.

"If I cannot destroy him, I will escape, and I will take us to ground." Taking her hand in both of his, he met her gaze intensely. "I promise you, Shang, I will not perish. I have not come this far in my search for eternal life to throw it away now." His eyes drifted over to the orb, suspended behind layers upon layers of powerful shields, glittering with eighty-seven lights. "We have come too far to lose what we have, and I will never let that happen." A soft kiss pressed against her fingertips.

"Wait for me, Shang. I will return, and if at all possible, with the head of the man who did this to you. Please. Rest, heal, and stay safe. I shall cloak the Gelid and warp it into a displaced dimension. You saved me once, now let me repay you." Even as he spoke, runes were spreading out around him, expanding and eventually passing through the walls of the ship, etching themselves into the outer hull.

As the weight of sleep and the need to heal laid heavier and heavier on the fae, Celeth took his leave, though not without a lingering eye to her. Shand watched with a heavy conscience as he disappeared, her fingers recurling back into the sheets as tears that'd wetted her eyes earlier finally gained enough body to drip and streak down the soft, pale rounds of her cheeks. "Pretty... Sweet, powerful Celeth. Shang can't let you go alone... Shang just can't." Swallowing back the sobs that were building in her throat as a new sense of purpose filled her limbs, Shang lifted herself from the bed so quickly it made her head swim a good foot or two above her shoulders. Feeling groggy, she gritted her teeth and slid towards the edge of the bed, her toes weakly grasping at the sheets as she wriggled them towards the floorboards in hopes of standing. It proved too much however, because the moment her feet touched down, her knees buckled and caved beneath her. With a soft cry, Shang fell onto the floor, and though she rolled on her side at the last second, the jolt of pain that shot through her felt just as bad as if she'd landed on her back.

"No.. Heal later." Tired. She was so very tired, but with what little strength she had left, Shang made herself a new portal to crawl into, her destination clear.

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http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs49/i/2009/195/5/3/she_can__t_walk____by_VillyBilly.jpg

SillyFae

Date: 2010-10-14 02:24 EST
Frozen eyes slowly moved in their sockets, but seemed far too heavy, and he watched with horror as the seraph's eye aimed to cut off his arm. He tried to move, but his body did not respond; the sorcerer could not even open his mouth to utter the runes that would carry him to safety.

"Angel man will not hurt Pretty!" A booming cry echoed from seemingly nowhere, yet everywhere at once, as if the world had turned to a deep, deep cave and her voice was the only that dared cry out through the dark. A bright light erupted above the trio in the markets, where, bloodied wings and all, a large, large fae emerged. Fifty feet in all, and pulsing with intense magics. Tears stained her cheeks just as purpose filled her eyes.

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http://i1013.photobucket.com/albums/af255/fellea/RDI%20Thingys/Surprise_by_FolleH.jpg

An excerpt from Scarred: The Lynchpin...

SillyFae

Date: 2010-11-11 17:15 EST
Screaming, screaming? There had been so much screaming. Almost as much as there had been blood. The sights and the sounds had followed Shang into her deep, impregnable state of sleep, for what else could you call the calcified cocoon of crystal prisms that had grown around the tiny fae. The cocoon only served as a small, private hell given the state she had had it form about her. Those screams kept echoing, most of them her own, but one scream in particular rang out and back then out and back in again, painting the crystalline walls in the shape of death throe demons and horror stricken eyes. That was what happened when you saw your own sad reflection in the expiry shine of a heart friend?s gaze, things changed you, visions touched and stayed with you, even during sleeps so near death not a single voice in the world about could wake you.

Shang was healing. Her body had lost so much that the power she kept inside could no longer seek the proper channels; she?d become so bruised and broken a vessel her magic could not reach her, could not heal her properly without a complete loss of physical consciousness.

?Shang? S-shang. Don?t.?

But she did, she had. With little left to give but the breath in her lungs, Shang, like always, ignored Celeth. She?d taken what little control her body hadn?t had and sent through a wave of that raw, inner core that made her glow. Her magic, her love, her wishes, her needs; she poured them into him in one great, unstoppable burst. There was no room to say no, not time to even form a single utterance or means of goodbye before the world fell away.

Now she was in that faraway stasis. Locked from the world and changing with every slow, sluggish beat of her heart, Shang was trapped with nothing but those last moments and her overwhelming pain. The injuries she?d suffered in her life before had never been quite so great, in fact, this would be the second time in the immortal?s life her body would be undergoing such a change. To each of her kind, Shang and her brethren were blessed with the power of their mother, their moon goddess, but with that power came the responsibility of using it properly and making sure they kept their living vessels, their bodies, safe. While injuring their bodies wasn?t the hardest of tasks if one were clever and powerful enough, certain injuries were a great degree more grievous however; destruction of their wings, injuries incurred through iron, sources of power greater than their own current state of caution, certain poisons? certain critical strikes could render a fae?s body useless, and that uselessness traveled with them down to their roots. Without a body, they had no means of utilizing the power within. Control was the key, their health was another, their sanity, in essence, their overall well being.

The crystallized structure around her was a shell, it would protect and help speed the process while her body evolved. It?d been hurt beyond conscious repair, that meant design changes were in order. The nature of the injury and the means in which she entered the deep, healing sleep would all be little bits and pieces that determined her overall change? As would her heart and mind. And within Shang?s mind there was nothing but her own reflection in Celeth?s eyes, her pain, and her extreme sense of desperation.

Her wings were changing; rebuilding, reshaping. They needed to be made better. Her magic would see to that, because while it was not a separate entity all it?s own, it did have the power to reshape the channels her body controlled it through when what design came before it did not work. Appearance, weight, shape; they could all be subject to change, and were. Her body needed to be seen less, heard less; it needed to be quicker, her reflexes sharper. To touch it meant to further influence the fae inside; fingerprints remained for a time, but only to fade away and sink into the rocky cocoon like a drop of water does a larger body.

She needed to be stronger. Celeth needed her so much more now, more than ever really. His goal was so close, but the dreamers had been slowly being plunged into darkness by the cold creep? Travanix.

?I miss you? Shang misses you. Shang wants to see Celeth happy.?

?Shang? S-shang. Don?t.?

?Shang did? Shang will. Shang will come back whole and changed. Changed for the better. Changed to help Celeth, to stay with Celeth.?

Lying in wait, her body changed, her eyes closed and still as her limbs. She was healing amidst the sorry she?d gone to sleep with. Swollen with need and eager to be free, the crystal shell would not hold the fae for long. From the outside looking in, one could see her body as if they looked through an endless queue of reflective prisms and cloudy quartz. Waiting? Healing.

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