• Memory • [Sor'ren]Those Damn Birds

Sor'ren tries to kill Alex

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Vluharqih
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Arc 715, 90th trial of Zi'da
Location: Somewhere North-East of Etzos
Valyeria's numb fingers fumbled the flint, dropping it in the knee-high drifts surrounding her. Another shiver wracked her body as she dug through the snow for the fire-starter.

A gust of wind blew through, knocking over her small stack of tinder just as the sparks finally landed. She cursed and quickly scooped it up, trying in vain to shield it from the wind. The embers glowed red for a moment before another draft snuffed them out.

She could've screamed, but the cold air seemed frozen in her throat. She pushed the little pile of tinder closer to the protection provided by her wagon and struck the flint. Again and again she pushed her knife against it, and again and again the damp bark failed to light. She could feel the cold seeping into her bones, and her wet clothing provided no protection against the bite of the wind.

Just when she was about to give up, a frail flicker of light glowed between the twigs. Hardly daring to move, Valyeria watched as it slowly grew. Soon the flames crackled, giving off waves of heat. She stripped, realizing how dangerous cold temperatures were to a Yludih. The colder it got, the more energy it took for their crystals to function properly. The frigid air bit at her exposed skin before she wrapped herself in a thick pelt and huddled closer to the fire.

Her wings remained hidden under the blanket, and her face was cast deep in shadow as she stared at the flickering flames. Her horse had shuffled its way closer, and now lay opposite her under its own heavy blanket. The wind continued to whip around them, but the wide panels of the wagon created a small pocket of still air.

The intensity and suddenness of the storm had caught her off guard- within bits the heavy clouds had covered the pale sun. The wagon was actually still on the dirt road, though now the heavy drifts of snow were piling up against the other side.

As Valyeria stared past the fire, she caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. She whipped her head around to look, and caught sight of a man struggling as he pulled a horse through the thick snow. A lantern was clasped in his other hand, and he seemed to be headed straight for her little encampment.
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Stupid partnership, stupid Authoi, stupid West Idalos, stupid Hawk girl person. It was all stupid. Sor'ren now needed to pull the damned horse along with him, instead of running freely about in his tiger form. Who even suggested that the two of them should buy a horse? He looked towards the sky, only to see the glimpse of the glorious bird soaring over the blizzard clouds. Hawk was really enjoying her time as she watched her partner struggle through the wind.

The worst part was, Sor'ren only had a thin cloak to cover himself, with a large piece of fabric covering the poor animal behind him. The cloak was covering his totem, as well as both of his blades, and yet the blue man honestly refused to believe that he would be needing either of those in the middle of nowhere. He observed his red-and-white bracelet as he desperately tried to notice anything on the horizon, anything but the whiteness. Sor'ren would've been fine with travelling in his tiger form, seeing how it had thick fur to protect him, but going around like this was just insane.

He saw the slightest signs of a fire in the distance, with just a little spark flying through the air. It could've been an illusion, even a trap by some hungry monster, but he needed to try. Sor'ren's skin was starting to feel numb and even bluer than it usually was, as the little pieces of iced rain kept getting caught within the forest of hair below his chin. He truly let his beard grow, and it was even out of line. At the first city he visited, he'd have to get it shaved.

The old spark was now a small flame, then just a tiny bit larger flame, until it got to the level where Sor'ren could with confidence determine that it was in fact fire. He took out the lantern he had within his cloak, and put it in front of him, to barely manage to let the person whose encampment it was know he was coming. The half-blood was in fact successful with his attempts, as the person turned around to face him, just as he got close enough to spot the horse on the other side of the campfire.

" 'Cuse me, do you mind if I rest here for a couple of bits? I have no tinder for a fire, nor blankets for protection." He said, attempting to yell and beat the wind's howl with the loudness of his speech. He observed carefully through the entire encampment, and the only thing that appeared strange was the person. The blanket around the person, which Sor'ren realized was a woman, after looking straight into her face, was placed rather improperly, as if there was something behind her that she moved away after sitting down. Everyone had their secrets, and yet in Sor'ren's eyes, nobody had the right to any of them. So long as the secret isn't kept perfectly, it shouldn't remain a secret.

"I am Ren, and I was travelling with my artisan friends, but we got split up because of the storm." He said, attempting to fake a concerned look on his face, though even if he failed miserably, the chances of the woman noticing it were very low next to all of the wind. She surely wasn't going to let a stranger near her supplies and fire, and so he needed a new name, and a new persona to actually get close enough to her for her to believe him. He was harmless, no matter the fact he was an assassin.
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His voice destroyed any chance she had of spending the night alone, and she sighed. The wind whipped away most of his words, but regardless, she knew what he wanted- the fire.

She stood, her back appearing hunched with the wings, and gestured him closer. Even if he were that bad, most men that tried to rape you tended to lose focus when you didn't have a hole where they expected one. She settled back down on the opposite side of the fire from him, her back to the horse as she studied him.

The man's skin was blue, though his dark brown hair showed he wasn't pure Eidisi. That hair was currently spiked in every direction with ice, and the man must have been freezing in only the thin cloak he was wearing. It moved oddly over his waist as he bent, and with a start she realized he was wearing blades. Her muscles tensed as she watched the man draw near, his horse behind him looking just as miserable as he must have felt. She slowly relaxed as he didn't make any immediate moves towards her.

"You're welcome to wait out the storm, though you'd be better off waiting for morning. It'll be easy to lose the road with all this snow." She kept her voice calm, just loud enough to be heard over the fire.

With another heavy sigh, she looked at the small pot bubbling over the flames. Damn man probably wants some of my food too...

"I supposed I can spare some food if you have none, though you'll have to pay for it. Five silver nels, and I'll give you half of what I have." She idly reached out a hand to stir the pot, the cloak shifting as her taloned fingers were revealed.
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Right before the woman gave her response, Sor'ren was considering alternatives, because there was no way in all of nightmares that he was going to keep walking. And then she accepted him, and he felt just fine for the moment.

"I appreciate the concern, but I do believe I will find my way around, and I wouldn't want to bother you for that long. You must enjoy your solitude." He said as he found his place on the ground, close to the fire. The woman wasn't exactly the friendliest, nor the most trusting, so Ren only presumed she wasn't used to travelling with a company of people. He wasn't neither, but he needed to get used to it, as that eagle soaring above the two of them wasn't going to just fly away.

Sor'ren. The spirit animal appeared from the whiteness in the distance, quickly reaching the fire, as it was unaffected by the wind. The half-blood learned to disregard any and all comments his familiar had, as at least ninety percent of them were sarcastic and useless oxcrap. Who knew this one thing he had to say would actually be useful for the current situation he was in.

Just as Sor'ren was about to mention how the woman needn't spend her food on him, he noticed her hand going for the pot. It was the hand that held the whip, long ago, the hand he wouldn't, and even couldn't forget. The talon of the hand scratched like the claws of a thousand tigers, and the wings covered every little bit of light that had existed in Sor'ren's world. He was in the darkness, covered by the pain, once again. So it was the wings that cause her blanket to turn so weird.

His usually-pale eyes were slowly filling with anger, as they showed more and more of his pupil. He could feel his hands shaking from the strength he used to clench his fists. As much as he wanted to remain calm in the presence of the Avriel woman, he couldn't. The Avriel were the race of pure evil, and he knew it. Sor'ren knew that there was no good among them, and the sooner every single Avriel died, the sooner Idalos would become a better place.

Instead of reaching for his daggers first, Sor'ren grabbed his bracelet behind his back, knowing he didn't have to touch it for Becoming to work. He needed to touch it to feel ready to act as soon as he collected his mind. It was not good to fight under extreme emotions, but he couldn't stop himself in that very occasion. Sor'ren. Are you a murderer? The spirit animal said, with it's rough voice echoing through the wind and beating back all other sounds within Ren's mind.

Perhaps I am, perhaps I'm not, but they do not deserve life. The half-blood said telepathically, as the transformation began. In a quick flurry of moments, Sor'ren's entire body went from the usual sentient one into that of a large magnificent arctic tiger. Without much warning, all of his previous belongings were left on the floor where he was sitting, as he jumped straight at the Avriel. He was going to slaughter her, like her race slaughtered his soul, with dozens upon dozens of slaves that didn't seem good enough. Since death was a reward the Avriel gave out to all within their city, Sor'ren was going to serve one of them a piece of it, just to see what they think. He unleashed, for one of the first times ever, just as he had practiced, and was on his way over the fire, heading straight for the woman's head.
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Valyeria didn't notice that anything was wrong for the first few trills, but as the man's hands began to shake she stiffened. Her gaze flicked to his eyes, but the fire light was too fickle to let her see them properly. His hand moved steadily behind his back, and Valyeria tensed, curling down onto herself.

But no matter what she was prepared for- a hurled rock, a blade or any other possible thing the strange man could've had behind his back- she never could've expected him to transform into a tiger.

By the time she had registered what was happening, her body had already reacted to the leaping shape. She rolled backwards, tripping herself up in her cloak as she sprawled behind her horse, thankfully out of reach of the massive white beast. Some small part of her told her this was exactly what she should've expected. How many innocent people would be travelling at this time of the year?

She scrambled upright, untangling her feet. The wind bit cruelly at her exposed flesh, but she didn't notice. She was already throwing her cloak high in the air, hoping to block his vision as she gathered her strength and leapt into the air. Her adrenaline was pumping, and her wings beat powerfully as she tried to gain some space.
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He missed, and he knew it. There was a risk of missing the Avriel woman, and Sor'ren was not prepared to pay the price for it. He wasn't going to give up. Never. No matter how much every single person told him that his hate for the Avriel is irrational and should have been dealt with already, he wasn't going to give it up. Those wings represented pain, and every time he would see them, even in dreams or in imagination, the Becomer would feel endless amounts of despair and helplessness. He was once more that child, a blue child, in the middle of a whole new world, where he meant nothing to nobody, and he was treated like that.

The woman was going to die, sooner or later, she needed to land. Sor'ren presumed that she was feeling cold after throwing the cloak in his face, the cloak which he shredded without much trouble because of his claws. He knew that thick fur could protect him more than those feathers could protect her. So he only needed to wait, and his prey would come to him. It was truly a tiger-like instinct, but what was correct needn't be fixed, and the tigers had a good instinct.

He roared and growled at the woman as she raised herself to the air, wondering if Hawk was going to soar down and help him out. No, she wasn't, and that was at least clear. This whole situation must have been so very funny to the hot-blooded woman. And even if she did come, Sor'ren felt like ripping her apart as well. She was annoying, and annoying, and so very annoying in the blue man's eyes, and he was drawn to her death like a moth to a fire. But there were more pressing concerns, like the Avriel flying above him.

The clothes he wore underneath the cloak weren't ripped apart like the previous time he became, but instead they were just roughly on the snow, seeing how the man managed to transform well enough to pass straight through them without damaging them permanently. That was even better, seeing how the only way he could return to his previous form was in that pile of clothes, and if they were all ripped apart, it would have been way harder to find it. Sor'ren wished he could assimilate at least his totems, the way Hawk could, only so he didn't have to worry about them whenever he transformed.

The horses once lying in the white were now running, and ripping any ropes that might have held them to the campfire place. Sor'ren couldn't blame them, almost every being's normal instinct when seeing such a big tiger jump out of nowhere would be to run, and even the Avriel woman manifested that in her behavior. Still, she could run, but she couldn't hide, and death was going to come for her, sooner or later. The white beast rested near the fire, still carefully observing the winged creature in the skies, ready to jump as soon as he was given the opportunity.
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Valyeria managed to climb to the skies, and for a moment she felt elated as the tiger below shredded the cloak, snarling up at her with hatred. It was then that she felt the cold bite of the wind. Down on the ground it had been a caress, but up high, out of the shelter of the wagon, it hit like a truck. She felt like she couldn't breathe as snowflakes whirled in eddies around her naked body.

Disappearing into the whirling snow were the pair's horses. She felt a rise of anger inside of her at the waste, tempered only by the fact that the odd tiger-man below had lost his own horse at the same time. She had no clue how she was going to get to Etzos now, but that was a problem for another day. A shiver rippled down her spine, sparking a shaking that soon covered her body. Yludih didn't feel the elements the same way the rest of the humanoid races did, according to her Uleuda Teacher, but the cold was incredibly dangerous to them. It burnt through their energy stores like a noble in a whorehouse- hence why there were very few of them on either pole.

Her teeth were chattering, and as she watched the large tiger curl up around the fire she snarled back, a weak sound whipped away by the wind the moment it left her mouth. Her arms circled her body as she allowed herself to sink, just out of reach of his leap, intending to speak to him.

But she wasn't expecting the air currents. The hot air coming up from the fire had lead to a slight downdraft nearby, and it was just enough to throw Valyeria off balance, dropping half a dozen feet closer to the earth. She was already beating hard as she regained her balance, but she had lost sight of the white beast.
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It was clear to the half-blood how the Avriel woman wasn't going to be holding on in the skies for too long. She was already shivering, ready to fall down into the snow, and when she did, Sor'ren would be there to catch her, to rip her apart and to eat whatever was left of her. Because he was hungry, and a tiger's hunger isn't easily satisfied.

Suddenly, a loud laughter came from the mouth of the Hyx-like spirit, which seemed to see something the tiger could not. He laughed uncontrollably, to the point where he almost prevented Ren from seeing the falling bird. What was so funny to the familiar, never quite made sense to the half-blood, but it wasn't worth sacrificing the death of that Avriel to find out. She needed to be gone from this world, and the sooner the better.

The white beast jumped with the power of its back legs, and nearly bit the flying mortal, with only managing to make a scratch. What came afterwards was the highly unlikely part. What came from the wound was most definitely not blood, and at first thought, Sor'ren considered it to be some special fluid only the Avriel had in them, but he remembered the blood of the Avriel perfectly, and this wasn't it. This appeared to be a ray of light, one that didn't seem to fluid, or even touchable at that. It was genuine and real light flowing from the woman.

Well, she was not Avriel, and whatever she was, was most definitely not Sor'ren's business. The tiger walked over to the pile of clothes and took the medallion that was his original totem, and fell into a meditation. Valyeria could use this opportunity the tiger gave her to land, and to gather her strength, or to just purely attack him, which wouldn't be very smart. In several bits, the tiger would once more become the blue man, and just as it happened, it would be clearly visible that the man's body was not fully covered with clothes. It was all messed up from the transformations, and it took him at least two more bits to get himself into a better position regarding looks. He put on the bracelet which allowed him to unleash into that fierce beast, and hid his daggers once more.

"What are you?" He mumbled simply, while sitting in the snow, several meters away from the campfire. It was all a failure, and now he could see what Ryol found so funny. Both of their horses fled, and along with them, most of Ren's food. How was he going to make it anywhere? Then another funny fact hit him. All of Hawk's clothes were on that horse, and she was still in her eagle form. It truly made the half-blood chuckle, and consider, for some reason, how Samantha's actual body would look. She was always covered with cloaks and leather, or in a bird form, Sor'ren experienced something strange for him, and an image of the woman popped into his mind. It didn't last very long however, but it was a reason to be concerned.
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By then it was too late. A blur of movement beneath her was the only warning she got before it's teeth raked down her leg.

She cried out and flapped harder to get some space as she examined the wound.

By sheer luck the beast didn't manage to close it's jaws around her, saving her life. The cut that it left on her leg was serious, however, and Valyeria could feel herself loosing energy quickly as light poured from the wound. She looked down to see the odd tiger curl up near the fire.

As it sat there, Valyeria recognized the signs of a meditative trance from her days of learning the Grey Velox form, and cautiously landed nearby.

Is he Yludih too? But why would he attack me then?

She rifled through her bag as she kept a wary eye on the unmoving form across the fire. She found the jar of Claytona Monticola, scraping the last of the precious ointment across her leg. It hardened instantly in the frigid air, and she sat back with a sigh of relief. It still throbbed, but it wouldn't be getting any worse now.

Over the course of the next few bits she watched, first with caution, and then with fascination as the bones beneath the tiger's skin shifted. It appeared painful as the skin stretched and ripped as it formed itself back into the blue mortal man.

Whatever he is, I don't think it's Yludih. She was curious- was there another shape-shifting race she didn't know of? Or was this the way some Yludih shifted? It was only when his voice broke the silence that she knew for sure he was something else.


"Yludih. Shape shifter. Thief. Freak. Whatever name suits your fancy. But the real question is who the hell are you and why the fuck did you attack me?"

She had started off well, but as she spoke she became angrier. Who the hell was he to attack her when she had offered sanctuary from the storm?


"You'd better have a damn good reason for scaring off my horse. You know how long it's going to take me to find it again?"
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Really sorry I didn't get to this sooner, I've just barely been getting time to write as Aeon, much less Sor'ren. Hopefully you still wanna continue?
The pain was there, surely, as the blue man passed through a metamorphosis which shifted him from a beast, to nothing, to a halfblood once more. The pain was something a non-becomer couldn't begin to imagine, since it was so very specific, and yet vague, and it couldn't be explained with words. Sor'ren had gotten used to it quite easily after the initiation, but he knew of several cases where people didn't. He had felt pain during his life, much worse pain, so that the transformation basically became an itch, not a pain.

Yludih, there was mention of that race in the Viden library, yes. A race of shapeshifters, the ones that inspired becomers to do what they do. A freak wasn't a good description for a Yludih in Sor'ren's mind, a thief, perhaps, if the yludih stole often, but not a freak. They had a gift, a gift he simply copied by sacrificing a part of his soul. And as much admiration as he had for the Yludih, he had hatred for the Avriel. Why would anyone willingly become that race? Stupid, in his opinion.

"My apologies. I believe I already introduced myself, and If I had known you were not Avriel, I wouldn't have attacked you. " There was no expression on his face to show his emotions, he just sat there, bluntly staring at the winged woman. It was hard for him to deal with the fact that she was not what she looked like, but he needed to convince himself. After all, that was what Sor'ren would do each time he changed forms. And even though his words sounded as if he meant that it was her fault she got attacked, he was simply stating the facts that filled a piece of his mind.

"I doubt you'll ever find that horse, unless it knows the way to a city. And I'd like to remind you that my horse with all of my belonging is gone as well. Now, if you don't have anything else you'd like to do, I suggest we wait for the wind to pass and move together. I have no intention of dying. And I don't suppose you would tell me your real name?" Surely, the woman would have questions about him, how did he do it, why did he do it, and many others, but she never asked any, so Sor'ren didn't bother with replying to unheard questions. Instead, he raised his own opinions, ones that he believed the woman would understand. No matter the emotions between them, they needed each other to survive, at least until they got to a settlement where they could replenish their supplies. He knew that the yludih had multiple names, so he simply presumed there was a "real" one, one with which they felt at home, just like he had with Sor'ren.
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