• Completed • Can't Get Rid of You

Avrae is plagued by Alistair even in his dreams. Luckily, this encounter is a bit more pleasant.

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Avrae Kyric
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71st of Zi’da, 716, Nighttime

Avrae was always self aware in his dreams… but that didn’t make them less scary. He could feel the fire that circled him, the heat smoldering on his skin. As he opened his eyes, he sat on his knees, shackled and bound, on a pyre that was fully engulfed in flames. Fear clutched at him, his throat closing as the smoke filled his senses. Eyes burning, he looked up to see a huge, monstrous form.

Gorgolas.

The giant beast was laughing at him, a deep, terror-inducing laugh that made Avrae’s heart race. He pulled at his chains, and somewhere far away he could hear Ailluin’s screams. Is she being burned too? Have I led her to her death? For a moment, Avrae couldn’t shake the feeling of reality the dream had.

Then, he blinked.

When his eyes opened again, he was sat on his knees, on the ground. There was no pyre, no flames, no shackles, and no Gorgolas. In fact, it was a sunny, warm, beautiful afternoon, and he appeared to be in a meadow. Avrae wore a loose pair of pants and a loose cloth shirt. He was barefoot, and his face was no longer bruised or in pain from Alistair’s punch earlier that day. Though, his left hand was still bandaged from punching Alistair, and he could feel the strange ache of his knuckles. Hard head… Avrae mused, almost smiling as he flexed his fingers and examined his surroundings. Standing, Avrae made his way to a nearby blanket that was laid out, overlooking a crystal clear lake beside the meadow. There was a pile of soft silk pillows, nicer than anything Avrae had ever slept on, and a picnic basket. His mouth watered as he moved to sit, opening the picnic basket to reveal a whole lunch for two packed away. As he reached to pull out an enclosed container of lemonade, his whole body tensed.

Avrae knew he wasn’t alone. It was just an instinct. His eyes closed briefly, wondering if Gorgolas was back. Yet when he lifted his head and opened his eyes, it was a man who stood in front of him, not a monster. Avrae frowned as he saw Alistair, reaching to run his hand through his red hair- which looked to be on flame with the light of the sun shining on it so- and sighed.

“I just can’t get rid of you, can I? Everywhere I turn, there you are. I hope you realize how infuriating that is. I don’t even know your name, and yet you just can’t seem to leave me alone.” Avrae, bringing out a container of grapes, said. As he opened it and popped one into his mouth, he mockingly commented, “I hope you’re not falling in love with me. I’d have to punch you again to knock some sense into you.” He was clearly teasing, giving as scoff as he tossed a second grape in the air, catching it in his mouth.
Last edited by Avrae Kyric on Wed Jan 25, 2017 10:17 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 521
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"Alistair."

The being whispered, and he listened. A black dog, with a black coat, with black eyes. It wasn't far from being a wolf, really. Additionally, it wasn't far from being a monster.

"Creature," he replied, eyes cold. He was nude, locked in a corner, in a dark hallway. At the far end, a black specter stood, staring at him with crimson eyes. Licking clean a blade. Not coming closer, but not going away . . . just waiting, watching. It would continue on and on like this for hours. And this was to be considered a good dream, compared to many others he'd had. To be a mage was to consign oneself to bad dreams - to be hunted in the night by creatures that prowled Emea. Nightmares. He'd heard the legends.

The more power one held on the outside, the less they held in the realm of dreams. Not because they were truly weaker, but because they were preyed upon. Constantly. Severely.

"Do you accept my gift, Alistair?" the wolf asked. The dog - whatever it was. The mage shook his head; he denied. He didn't know what this . . . gift was. Power? Power never came easily. Fortune? He already had it. Beauty? Hm, debatable; but he believed he had that too. There was nothing this creature could give him but...

"Freedom," it said.

"Freedom?" the mage asked in return.

"From Ellasin," the creature replied. "What does that creature over there look like to you?" the dog asked. Alistair looked over, curiously. It was a man - a tall man, with a skinny frame and a long blade. He shrugged his shoulders.

"A man," he replied to the specter. The Nightmare.

"It is not a man," he said. "It isn't a mortal at all. It's a manifestation of what you fear. And what do you see, Alistair? More than just the male anatomy? You see . . . shadowed darkness, a meld with the night. Where have you seen that before, mage? That perfect darkness?"

He had to think. Where . . . had he? A perfect meld with shadow, where one could not see at all. A camouflage with the night, only seen to him now with the faint glimmer of moonlight peering through the window. He had seen this same scene before, in a hallway, in the Coven corridors. On one so fateful night . . .

"A Naerikk," he replied. A woman of shadow. Ellasin was a Naerikk. He knew that. So was it her that he was afraid of, he wondered? Was it not Syroa? Or failure? Or . . .

"There are many things you can fear, Alistair," it replied, as if reading his thoughts. "That specter is one thing, representing one thing. There are more. There will be more."

His dreamscape changed. The moonlight vanished, and so he was lost in darkness. The dog laughed briefly as all went into hiding, though when it was over, it was not his own death that he witnessed. The creature was gone, and so was the man, and his long blade. Instead, the first thing he saw . . . was Avrae. Though he still didn't know his name. He was just that fiery Aukari who'd punched Alistair in the morning, and had been punched several multitudes harder in return.

"I'm Alistair," he said quietly. He was still nude, but concealed by his knees, his arms. He was sitting down in a corner still, but a different one. He couldn't recognize where he was. "It's not that I don't want to leave you alone, anyhow. It's that you don't want to leave me alone. Get it right," he whispered, with a faint grin. He was teasing, already showing a much different side of himself than on . . . the surface.

"What's your name, Aukari? I may as well know the name of my tormentor . . . and no, I'm not in love with you. If I was, I wouldn't advise you punching me regardless. You know how that went, last time," the nobleman spoke, chuckling with his words.
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For whatever reason, nudity in his dream didn’t phase Avrae. It wasn’t the first time, and even though he found his gaze drifting down Alistair’s form as he sat, he didn’t really feel… anything. Maybe because he thought the real thing was more handsome. Even so, he figured Alistair was naked because his subconscious thought he’d be hot naked. His subconscious wasn’t entirely wrong, but Avrae had the decency to look back up into his eyes once he spoke. Alistair… Well, he sounds calmer than he was today, anyway.

Scoffing, Avrae managed a smile and shook his head. “I think we both know who the hotter of the two of us is, and who keeps stalking who. You must be delusional, Alistair.” He couldn’t help his smile growing, though, biting into his bottom lip. I suppose he can be nicer, and funnier, in my dreams…

Avrae chuckled along with Alistair as he said, “You wound me. I would never punch someone I love. Plus, you seriously deserved it, if you remember correctly.” Pausing, the Aukari sighed before shrugging off the cloth shirt he wore, tossing it in Alistair’s direction. “Put that on, or tie it around your waist, and come eat with me. You don’t have to sit in the corner like a weirdo. And for the record… my name is Avrae. Avrae Kyric.”

As Alistair moved to grab the short, Avrae politely averted his eyes, busying himself with taking more food out of the basket. There was grilled chicken, salad, a blueberry pie, and then the grapes and lemonade he’d already taken out. Setting out plates for them, Avrae reached for the grapes again. Popping them in his mouth, he paused before holding up a second.

“Ali. Catch.” Avrae, thinking this was a dream after all, didn’t think twice about using such a cute, casual nickname. He even smiled as he tossed the grape in a wide arc through the air, holding his breath to see if Alistair managed to catch it in his mouth.

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He shrugged. Hotter? Well, in the literal sense, it probably was the Aukari. If he remembered correctly, when the man gripped him, his palm felt like an iron. And his punch, too - it was more than just his strength behind it that brought harm. It was the heat. He swore that had to be a useful talent, when it wasn't so terribly dreadful to have. It must have at least been useful at a time like this, in Zi'da, where the world was wrought with cold winds. An Aukari pillow would have been an excellent thing to own.

"I am a bit delusional," he said, spreading his arms out to reference the area around them. All a delusion. At realizing he was revealing far too much of his bare chest, though, he brought his arms back. "But you're wrong, anyway. Who found who, staring emptily at the bounty board? It wasn't me that came upon you, Avrae," he called him with a playful tone, learning of the man's name. "Who approached me the first time? I just wanted to get on with my business after being met with your ugly mug post-teleportation, but no, you had to be upset with me knocking you over," the man chuckled.

The man spoke again, with a chuckle as well. I'd never punch someone I love, he said. I would, Alistair could only reply, though he would keep that to himself. I'd do a lot of bad things to a person that I love. That's how I know I'm not a good person.

With the shirt being thrown at him, he sighed, and shrugged. The mage stood up, pulling the shirt over his chest, concealing it. Rather than needing any lower garments, it was almost like the dream shadowed over his lower body. Instead of a visible form, it became a silhouette. A darkness - only the outline of his legs could be seen. And his thighs.

Seeing the food, he didn't really seem phased. Alistair was almost never hungry. It was a Necromancy mutation; he only needed to eat once every few days, really, if that. His body's physical form didn't change much at all - if it did, it was at a vastly slower rate than other humans. If he wanted to become more muscular, he'd have to take a lot more time doing so, as his protein intake would have to increase on a ratio of a few days at a time, rather than every meal. Luckily he'd already garnered a lot of muscle before the mutation set in, and he'd been working on keeping that trend going, but...

He wasn't hungry. In fact, the thought of eating seemed to disgust him now, whenever he wasn't in the mood for food. What stood out was instead the grapes . . . because they reminded him of home. Venora, the land of grapes. The land of wine. The largest exporter of wine in Northern Idalos, and probably the whole world.

He very instinctively caught the grape between his teeth, and despite his lack of hunger, he did Avrae a favor and gulped down the grape.

"It doesn't taste like anything," he said. "Maybe I'm just delusional, though."

The nobleman shrugged, leaning his shoulders back and cracking his back. Shortly afterwards, he seated himself before Avrae, staring at the man. The Aukari.

"Why are you so desperate for money, anyway? Can't you just find a job?" he questioned. "There's a lot of job opportunities in Ne'haer, for pretty much anyone. It's one of the fastest growing cities in the world. Is there some reason you can't sustain yourself? Do you get fired up and punch your pending employers, or something?"

He wouldn't be surprised... to be honest.
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Avrae, on instinct, opened his mouth to argue with the handsome male- but he was completely right. Giving a playfully irritated smile, Avrae made a point to look away. “You would have been upset too, had you been the one to run into such a hard head.” He mumbled. Finally looking back at Alistair, he watched as he approached, and caught the grape. It was rather amusing, actually, earning a smile from Avrae. He likes grapes… maybe he’s not inhuman after all. In truth, with his magic, his strength, and the awful feelings he managed to pull out of Avrae, the Aukari hadn’t been convinced that Alistair was entirely human. Until now. Now he didn’t seem so bad, and it made him wonder if his dream was forming Alistair into someone he simply wasn’t.

Avrae was open to talking to Alistair, but when the human asked about the money, all the while making fun of him, Avrae’s smile melted away. He squirmed slightly where he sat, wrapping his arms around his torso in a self-hug, a coping mechanism he only did when uncomfortable or lonely. This time, the prior. Geez… Didn’t know the guy of my dreams could be so invasive… But it is just a dream… I can tell him… it doesn’t matter. A moment lapsed in silence as Avrae debated this, before he spoke, all the while avoiding Alistair’s eyes.

“You know how I said you’ve never had to work for anything in your life? I meant that. Not because you were born noble… mostly because you’re human. There are a lot of job opportunities in Ne’haer… but not many for Aukari. Business owners fear you’ll set their shops aflame. Most horses aren’t trained to like Aukari- they’re skittish, just as scared of us as their human owners are, so I can’t be a stable boy. I’m not of high enough status to hope for a higher job than a servant, and I… I can’t and won’t swim, so I can’t get work on many ships or docks. Or rather, I won’t. My only option most of the time is to take bounties. Even that…” Avrae’s eyes softened and he looked up at Alistair, being surprisingly honest and genuine.

“I am not… as skilled as you. I know that. I know Gorgolas is beyond my abilities… But unlike you, it’s one of my last options. I have three golden nells left, and I… I want to be more than I am. I want to own a home. To have better armor, weapons. I want to be able to live better. I would have chosen a lesser bounty, but…” He hesitated, before admitting, “You’re not the first to laugh at me when I said I wanted to take on Gorgolas. I live to prove people like you wrong. I don’t ever want to be told I can’t do something- and then just accept it without trying. So… I’m trying. I was… thinking of leaving Ailluin behind. If it’s a death mission, I don’t want her to meet the same fate. But... at the same time, no one, not even an Aukari, wants to die alone.”

Avrae felt unusually calm about this. For some reason, it was easy to admit he was ready for death. He’d only kissed someone once, he’d never had sex, never dated, never married, never had children. He’d never been wealthy, or had adventures, or ridden a dragon. Yet death... Death was something he welcomed. For reasons he didn’t know, it was easier to talk to Alistair here, in a dream, when he thought the real Alistair would never know or remember.
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That made sense. There was a lot of discrimination against Aukari in this world, especially in Rynmere, where he came from. The Aukari weren't seen as worth anything. In fact, just a season ago, Alistair only perpetuated this intolerance of them himself. He remembered it clearly - Lady Reimen Solange, saying that she only fancied Aukari. And of course, Alistair being a proper Lord, chastised her for that. He told her that an Aukari would never be a proper husband for a Lady.

It wasn't even a thought. He didn't even know why he said it - what the logic was. What made an Aukari so unsuitable. He only said it because he was conditioned to, for a long time. Alistair recalled thinking about it that night, and he determined that such a ridiculous claim was against him. That someone should be determined by who they are, rather than what they are. That was something Ellasin had helped him learn, as one of the woman's singular good qualities in an array of bad. She had come from Augiery, where the Naerikk reigned; she was one herself. She witnessed constant discrimination against men - all men. The Naer abused them, utilized them as objects, treated them with scorn.

And she questioned . . . why? What was it about them that the Naer could not tolerate? Why act as such when they, in fact, needed men to carry on their race? She explained to Alistair that their pointless intolerance was their greatest weakness, just as many people in positions of authority had shown pointless intolerance towards mages. They weakened themselves. They made themselves vulnerable. Secretly, they even relied on mages without knowing it - without good mages like the Seekers to hold back the Coven, Ellasin likely would have razed cities to the ground. All because they couldn't incorporate mages into their guards, or their army. They were too intolerant, and it crippled them.

And Avrae wasn't intolerant of Alistair; he didn't make a single comment about the fact that Ali possessed magic, and even utilized it in his presence. This made the mage feel . . . unkind. Even though Avrae was a stubborn ass, he had judged Alistair for the traits of personality he presented, rather than merely the fact that he was a mage. In truth, he followed the nobleman's own line of thinking, and for that reason he knew they could be friends.

"You have a mage's soul, Avrae," he told him. Alistair's eyes seemed passionate in those words - and understanding. "Let me tell you a story," the Venora began. "This is a story known well to those within my circle - that of Rupturing, the magic that defies space and reason. It's a story of our true founder, Reyard Seymour, who was born a hundred years past. A man I look up to immensely. He was actually the one to initiate Ellasin into Rupturing, who initiated me into the same craft. So I almost consider him like my grandfather," he chuckled.

"Reyard was always an ambitious man. He had one goal that no one else could stand still with after hearing; everyone always laughed. Laughed and laughed and laughed. He, a young astrologer and astronomer, wanted to go to the moon. It was at some point in his youth, when pursuing this goal, that he came upon Rupturing. He and the magic were immediate companions, as even though the magic never spoke to him, he always felt a comfort at the spark lit inside. Rupturing was his most beloved thing, and in his passion he developed new forms of it that radically modernized the art. Full-length compression portals, the heart and soul of Rupturing. Sundials, which allow inter-city, or massive distance travel. He invented the ability Rending, a massive rift that can consume whole city blocks around it. He was an amazing man - the true founder of the art. And all for that same goal he'd formed as a child: going into space. Walking on the moon."

The man's eyes seemed genuinely pleased as he told this story, as if it were the most beautiful story he'd ever known. Speaking it made it come to life, in his eyes; he could remember the Transcendence, his visit into space. The initiation to Rupturing, where one viewed the stars and galaxies not from a distance, but from right beside them... in an astral, ethereal form. Reyard, he thought, must have fallen in love with that sight. He pursued it for all of his life.

"One day, he did leave for the moon. He made a unique variant of the sundial from pure onyx, a momentously expensive and laborious task. He made it specifically for aiming into the sky, so that he could direct its trajectory at the moon. This was difficult, of course, as the moon seems to darken or . . . I don't know, move? I'm not sure the science on that yet; no one really knows. But he determined where the center was in its exact, channeled as much energy as he could, opened a portal and left." He could imagine now what a terrifying thing that might have been; it was a mission of near certain death. Surely, everyone must have been advising him against it. Not to mention his loved ones.

"Many people, especially the astronomers and astrologers without magical talent, say he died on that journey. That he would have been suspended into empty space and that he'd float for thousands of years, unable to decay or find peace in the afterlife. But we mages know what really happened. For those who initiate others into Rupturing, a strong bond is formed. A bond of distance; the ability to know where one is, always, no matter how far away. One that shuts down when someone has died. And for those who had that bond with him, like Ellasin and his other students, all have unanimously said that they still feel his presence. Above them - somewhere. He found something, and he decided to never come back."

Finishing his long story, the man winded down. He didn't want to prattle on too much. There was a reason for that whole explanation - it was to tell Avrae something that Alistair meant, and believed, from the bottom of his heart.

"The laughs and mocks of others mean nothing. Their predetermined judgments as to who you are and what you are capable of... it's all hogwash, every single bit of it. You're right to be ambitious, and to strive, regardless of their intolerance of what you are. I have known this same intolerance, because of what I am. A mage, hated universally in Rynmere. An emotional cripple, stared at and mocked before they know of my noble status. A man who loves men, when everyone else in my social class is expected and demanded to marry another of the opposite sex. Yet now, look at me. I'm successful. I'm powerful. And I am in love with a man, and will likely marry one overseas, and there's not one thing the moralizing influences of the nobility can do about any of that."

He smiled. Genuinely. He was happy to talk about this - to talk about it to someone who understands.

"But," he said firmly, "there's no point in killing yourself over a true impossibility. Let's start with the basics, Avrae," the man told him. Alistair stood up, with light brown slacks seeming to just appear in place of the black aura that covered his lower body. The nudity from before was tied to his fear. Of the shadows, of the creature, of that corridor. He wasn't afraid right now. He was excited. He wanted to teach Avrae what it meant to be strong, ambitious. Worth something.

"How about this, for the basics - how about I help you prove all of those fools wrong? That an Aukari can burn hotter than any flame, and not just literally. But in wit, and wisdom, and integrity. I can become your guide, Avrae. I can help you kill Gorgolas, I can help you find a base to begin a new life, and I can walk with you on the path: a journey of enlightenment, one that we can both walk."
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Avrae wouldn’t have been surprised if Alistair was the type of person who didn’t like Aukari. Most people were, after all. Even Patrick, who he had undeniable chemistry with, had given that telltale “I’m wary of you because you’re an Aukari” look when they first met. With how Alistair and he had acted to each other, Avrae would not have been surprised. Staring at the ground, his fingers brushed through a patch of grass, as he waited for what he suspected Alistar would say.

”You’re simply not trying hard enough.”

“You’re making excuses- any man can find work if he tries.”

“Do you expect me to pity you?”


These were the words Avrae expected to hear. He never expected to hear Alistair speak so kindly, with words that made Avrae’s heart warm.

“You have a mages’ soul, Avrae.”

Six words that made Avrae’s head come up, eyes wide. He couldn’t stop from glancing at his foot, a bewildered question of ”Does he know?”, running through the Aukari’s head. But like in all his dreams, he had all his toes. Swallowing his nerves, Avrae lifted his gaze to Alistair’s again, and his heart skipped a beat. He’d never seen anyone look at him like that… like he understood. No one had ever understood. It was… a relieving sight to see.

Remaining quiet, Avrae found himself hanging on every word as Alistair told his story, his eyes never straying from Alistair’s face. It was almost… mesmerizing. This was a different side to Alistair, a side that Avrae was surprised to see. He was passionate and caring, for once. Avrae could tell this was something he loved. I wonder, if given the chance, if he would go to the moon, too. Perhaps Alistair Venora is so otherworldly he belongs to the universe. Perhaps… he’s too big for Idalos… and his destiny is to travel the stars. It was funny, he assumed, but it seemed so fitting. He could picture Alistair as someone who was destined for great things.

For a moment, Avrae bit his lip as Alistair’s story winded down. He opened his mouth, about to comment on it, when Alistair got to explain why he had told the story. To have him admit to understanding in such a way- to be a mage among people who feared magic, and to be a man who loves men…

Avrae had always been attracted to men. Women as well, but men had a way of making his skin heat up and his heart flutter. He also, recently, had become a mage himself. So from this, he learned two vital facts.

1. That Alistair Venora and himself, Avrae Kyric, were more alike than he thought. Perhaps vitally so, Avrae had never met anyone so different from him, who grew up in such a different life, yet so similar all the same. It baffled him and befuddled him that this man, who just hours before he had punched and been punched by, was so… easy to talk to, and listen to, right here and now.

2. Avrae remembered the feelings that had stirred up from Alistair earlier. Rage, yes, but also… attraction. Lust. He had disliked it, how easily he wanted this human, even as they yelled at each other. It bothered him, in fact… but he couldn’t help but give a small smile as Alistair mentioned being in love with a man, and thinking, ”He’s a very lucky man indeed, whoever it is Alistair loves.”

Successful. Powerful. In love. Now, the more Alistair had spoken, the more Avrae too understood. At first, he had thought Alistair had it easier because he was human. But he was also a noble who loved men, and a noble who was a powerful mage. In a way, Avrae could see how that was beyond difficult… how the world could be against him, too. It surprised him, to be learning this much about a man who previously had been furious at him… but it was nice. As Alistair smiled, so genuinely, Avrae couldn’t help but to match it, his eyes bright.

As Alistair stood, so did Avrae, looking up the one-inch difference into Alistair’s eyes. He still couldn’t get over how… different this felt. How different Alistair was, with his blonde hair shining under the sunlight and talking about things he loved. Yet his offer was genuine, and Avrae found himself willing to trust this human lord.

“No one has ever accused me of being witty, or wise, or to have any particular integrity to my character… But I would feel better about this if I was going into it with an ally.” Avrae said softly. He took a step closer to Alistair, holding out a warm hand. This time it was not to punch him, but to shake on it. As he took Alistair’s hand, Avrae’s smile grew slightly sad. “Thank you… for the story, and for the offer of help. But… as lovely and freeing as your magic sounds… What your magic’s founder did sounds like a very lonely path, Alistair. I am glad that you have found both a love in your life, and a passion to follow.” His voice grew softer as he murmured, “I hope you can keep both.”

Avrae knew loneliness. He would wish it on his enemies, but now he found it hard to think of Alistair as less than an ally. He could only hope Alistair would not face the same loneliness Avrae often did, after this bounty was done and they parted ways.
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Can't Get Rid of You

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A lonely path? Maybe. By their standards, yes. Alistair would never dream of going somewhere far away, like Reyard did, away from all other people. He'd learned in the past few seasons that he was a social creature. Far moreso than he'd previously anticipated. Reyard, on the other hand, cared only about his dreams at the end of the day: a mechanical goal. Even though he might die on the journey, he wished to make it regardless, as it was some way of validating his own existence.

How did Alistair validate his? Well, perhaps through moments like this. The more serene occasions where he'd been able to let himself be, as well as others around him. Even though . . . even though this was just a dream. It still meant something. It was a good dream.

"I don't think I'd ever truly be lonely," the man said. "There's far too many people in this world for me to feel alone. And to be honest, I never sought companionship. Not once in my life. I didn't feel that painful loneliness that others describe. Each time it came, it sort of just . . . happened. And it made my life better, but - I know I can be happy no matter where I am, and no matter who I'm with. I'm happy just being alive. Being independent. It's a simple sort of joy." He was an easy man to please, at the end of the day. Give him his books, the occasional artistic performance, and a suitable working and living environment... and he was fine.

That wasn't to say he didn't want companionship. He did. But Alistair was a survivor, first and foremost, and an intellectual.

Nevertheless, he responded to Avrae's gesture by taking his hand, smiling warmly at him as the man's heated grip took his. Somehow, the heat coming from the Aukari's body was . . . relaxing. It soothed him, a bit.

Yet within moments of taking his grasp, the scene vanished, and he was returned to that same dark hallway.

"Do you accept my gift, Alistair?" the creature asked. The man, phasing back and in surprise, began to breathe heavily. He paused. Looked around. The shadowed creature, with the tall form and the long knife, drew closer. This time, he was not merely standing. He was walking, and his eyes were upon Alistair's visage.

"Do you accept my gift?" he asked again.

"What is that gift, creature? I cannot remember," the mage replied.

"My gift is freedom from the nightmares - in exchange for your service in the living world."

Without hesitation, he shook his head. No.
Last edited by Alistair on Wed Jan 25, 2017 10:07 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 446
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Avrae Kyric
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Joined: Mon Sep 19, 2016 8:34 pm
Race: Aukari
Profession: Mercenary
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Can't Get Rid of You

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Avrae wished, in that moment, that he was even more like Alistair. It might have been because of how he grew up, without a family or a true home. Or even earlier than that, his brief time in slavery, walking with only the lonely sound of his shackles clacking with each step. He couldn’t express why he got so lonely at times. He had people… like Ailluin. But… there was a part of him that struggled with it, and didn’t know how to stop that horrible emotion from creeping up again.

He could only be relieved that Alistair hadn’t experienced the same thing. Avrae opened his mouth to speak- but he didn’t get a chance. While Alistair thought he just popped out of view, Avrae’s view of it was far different.

Flames shot out from the hand Avrae had holding Alistair’s, catching his sleeve on fire. The Aukari watched in muted horror as the flames traveled up Alistair’s arm. In seconds the noble was engulfed, Avrae releasing his hand and stumbling back.

“No! NO! ALISTAIR!” Avrae found himself screaming as the male stood there in silence, covered in thick, bright flames. The Aukari bent over in his screams, eyes filling with hot tears. This was his worst fear, and even while he didn’t know Alistair like he did Ailluin, he still found his fear overwhelming, his panic for the blonde male growing as Avrae screamed out his name.

With a start, and a gasping breath, Avrae woke up. He sat up, disoriented, from where he lay in the bed of the inn. His body was in a hot sweat, shaking, clutching the blankets of the bed as he tried to get rid of the image of Alistair’s burning body. His eyes went to where his jacket was hung on a chair, and he could hear Ailluin’s soft breaths of sleep. Trying to calm his own erratic breathing and racing heart, Avrae slowly laid back, eyes meeting the ceiling of his room.

It would be awhile before he could close his eyes again without seeing flames.
word count: 362
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Whisper
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Joined: Thu Feb 05, 2015 10:36 pm
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Can't Get Rid of You

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Alistair Venora


Awarded Points

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 5/5
Structure: 5/5
These points can/cannot be spent in magic


Awarded Knowledge

Aukari: Struggle to Find Work
Avrae Kyric: Aukari
Avrae: Companion
Creature of Emea: Nightmare
Race: Aukari


Awarded Extras

Loot & Losses Injuries
None None
Fame Devotion
None None
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Avrae Kyric


Peer Review

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 5/5
Structure: 5/5
These points can/cannot be spent in magic


Awarded Knowledge

Alistair: Companion
Magic: Rupturing
Rupturing: Defies Space and Reason
Rupturing: Sundials


Extras

Loot & Losses Injuries
None None
Fame Devotion
None None
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Comments

...what? That ending has me so confused?! Otherwise, that was a lovely and heart-warming thread!


If you have any questions, comments or criticism about your review, feel free to send me a PM and we can discuss it.
Thank ye.
word count: 237
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