Awoken

A sudden jolt. A gasp of air. A startled breath, and Attraes found himself awoken. His eyes wild as he scrambled to his knees, his hands stretched out as if protecting from some phantom punches. Shaken, his breath steadied when he saw nothing and no one around him. Just a spire in the distance, and darkness that rapidly closed in around him.

Pant...Pant...Pant...his bare chest heaved as his eyes absorbed this foreign place. He looked down to see a massive patch of black and withered grass, dead and wilted. Drained from any fragments of life it had possessed.

Pale grey eyes focused as he noticed he was surrounded by woodlands. Trees and creatures with a hefty appetite. Normally that wouldn't concern Attraes, but he had awoken noticeably weaker than last he recalled. His muscles burned, his stomach rumbled, his head was spinning.

Gathering himself, steadily rising to his feet...Attraes began to walk. Aimlessly, just anywhere but full exposed as he was just now. Each step he took withered a patch of grass, plants all around he seemed to leave a path of withered, extinguished life in his wake. Even as he brushed his hand along passing trees for balance, they to would begin raining crimson leaves that were otherwise lush green.

Like a parasite, he fed on what life he could...though even with his current portions he didn't appear substantial enough to bring his strength back even moderately. The ground suddenly began to spin around him, his footing increasingly clumsy, tangled as he tumbled face down draining the life from the ground beneath him in a sphere of blackness that surrounded his unconscious body, Attraes remained still as if his body craved the comfort of sleep. Defiantly his eyes slowly blinked until they could remain open no longer.

Ashetta

Ashetta had yet to find herself a new home. Stubbornness, pickiness, an all-around glutton for self punishment? Likely all three of those things, but she found herself moving place to place every night, rarely returning to the same location twice. She didn’t know if Alistair had gone back to the place they had been sleeping, but she wouldn’t. Even if it were empty, she would not go. It was rare she slept anywhere civilized, instead choosing to curl up with her tail over her nose in any place small enough to be considered a den. Today, it was the hollow in the roots of a dead tree the black wolf had to wriggle out from under, shaking her pelt against the dropping temperatures and darkening skies.  She hadn’t been sleeping, not quite. She hadn’t done that in… two days now? Flickers of blue electricity flared in her coat as if to punctuate her wide yawn, but the hybrid absorbed the lightning into herself. Her heart was sent racing and every nerve was alive with fire suddenly.. And so began another wakeful night. She was just leaning down to take a drink from an icy cold stream hardly even wider than herself when she caught sight of it: the patch of dead grass. She drew her tongue over her jaws as she picked her head up, sharp golden eyes peering closely. She sniffed carefully, and her lip curled against the scent of decay, of something other. This was magic, there was no doubt… but this was no magic she had ever seen before. Ashetta made a quick hop over the stream, happy to put the looming self-loathing somewhere else as she investigated: that ever present need to know, a curse more than a blessing. She’d planned to find her way to a bottle of alcohol somewhere tonight - likely would slip into some unguarded sap’s house for it - but her attention was suddenly dominated. She followed her nose, though sight alone could easily guide her with the path of decay so blatant. What, or who had done such a thing? She wasn’t sure she’d ever encountered magic like this, certainly not in Northwind or Northaven. It didn’t take very long for the wolf to track the source - an easy trail and she was all too eager for something, anything to keep her moving, keep her thoughts moving forward. She paused at the edge of the clearing that path had brought her to, head lowering as her ears pricked forward. A man lay face down in the circle of dead and blackened grass, his eyes shut. Simple conclusion: he had done this. The nature of his magic… something destructive. Dark. She felt it as she lowered her nose to the earth, breathing in the barren circle of former life. Her golden eyes never left him, even as she lifted her head back up. It was a long moment of stillness, and she considered padding away again. She thought about trotting off into the woods and letting this man deal with whatever this was he was dealing with… She had been found half dead from her own magic once, near unconconscious in a circle of destruction. With a harsh squeeze in her chest, the wolf moved forward. Large paws crunched on the desolate ground, and she remained cautious as she approached. The scent of decay and this man’s own scent prickled in her nose, but she didn’t stop until she was perhaps a couple of feet from him. She moved to sit back on her haunches, and then in a flash? The raven-haired assassin crouched on the balls of her feet adjacent the man’s shoulders, fire-blue eyes looking warily down at the man. She couldn’t help it, the unconscious reach for her knives strapped at her hip… and she spoke. ”You awake?” She didn’t dare touch him, didn’t dare get close enough. From the looks of his arms, she was only just barely out of his reach. Idiot girl. Attraes ashetta it's live or die my way.

Attraes stirred. Fingers tearing into the dirt before his grey eyes shot open to look at the young woman. He said nothing, just blinked several times as if assuring himself it wasn't a hallucination.

"Where...Where am I?" He muttered as he willed himself to turn onto his back. His clothes were tattered and worn, wherever he was before waking here...it was a less than civil setting. Slowly, ever so slowly he pushed himself to sit up, raising his hands to show he was unarmed.

Though as a small rodent like creature began to creep along side him, his hand quickly snapped onto it. It flesh quickly decaying and crumbling into his touch. His eyes shut for a moment before slowly opening to greet Ashetta once more.

"I don't intend to harm you...I'm just trying to collect myself...this is not Misthalyn…" The latter whispered as an outward thought as he took in the woodlands.

He glanced to his hand that held the rotted rodent and back to Ashetta as he released the creature to crumple onto the ground. "My magic is a means of survival...I don't intend to harm you, appearances not withstanding."

Attraes spoke in a manner of eloquence with the faintest of accents that certainly appeared foreign to any ear here.

"Attraes…" He spoke softly, cautiously moving his hand over his chest in greeting, as to not alarm the young woman.

The man's eyes snapped abruptly open, and Ashetta started, hopping back a step while still at a crouch, bracing a hand behind her on the rotted earth. He didn’t move at first.. only cool gray eyes looked up to to meet the narrowed gaze of the assassin as she warily watched him stir. Who are you? she wanted to ask - it was still unsettling not to know most faces she encountered. She had grown too comfortable in Northaven, too used to knowing every face, every name of the small settlement. He managed a question as he moved to his back, and she pulled her arm back forward to rest over her knee. ”Still figuring it out,” she murmured in reply. She didn’t flinch this time at his quick movement, snatching up a rodent that had been brave enough to investigate the man. Her heart did stall, however, at it’s chilling demise. Ashetta’s hand drifted closer to her belt, and her other hand was a wrong breath away from summoning a violent spark. Run, some primal part of her whispered as she stared at the now rotted corpse of a rodent in his hand. How had he done that? What sort of magic did he possess to command death like that? Where did he say he was from? Misthalyn. SHe had never heard of such a place, there were no countries of that name outside of Northwind that she knew of. Had everyone here been pulled from different worlds? Her lips set to a thin line as she flicked her eyes up from the rodent and back up to the man’s gaze, and there was no small measure of reproach there. ”A means of survival.” She supposed she was familiar with that much. It certainly didn’t mean she had any kind of trust for this stranger before her, his death magic or - He moved, and every muscle coiled as she palmed a push knife - she hadn’t exactly been meeting a lot of new people lately. But… he was only dropping the rodents, making placating gestures with gently spoken words in an accent she’d never heard before. She didn’t put her knife away, wasn’t even sure if he’d noticed her pull it free… but she made herself slow her heart. Breathe. She tilted her head just slightly at him, and she let her eyes flicker across him. His clothes were in bad shape, in general looking unkempt. Where had he come from? What had happened to him? ”Ashetta,” she replied smoothly, and she suddenly cursed herself. Real name right off the bat? Idiot girl. She truly had gotten too accustomed to the security of Northaven. Too late to recover now, however, she pulled the old small flask from her hip, still filled with freshwater. She didn’t move any closer to the man, but she held the water out to him in offering. ”Interesting way to meet, Attraes. You need directions to town?” She almost scoffed - there was no town here, this was survival. Still, she’d direct him. She had no intention of approaching any sort of society today - Attraes was more than she had planned for. ashetta it's live or die my way.

Attraes reached out and took the offered water, taking a long and healthy pull before offering the water back to mysterious young woman. His grey eyes, gave him the appearance of a blind man but he could very much see everything, clear as crystal. He had watched her hands, read her movements or lack their of as one reads the pages of a tome.

"Am I so transparent that you feel a need to fear me?"

He asked, the faintest of smirks slowly creasing his refined, square jaw. Slowly he removed his shirt, placing a hand over his heart to feel it beating. His breath, steadier now as he closed his eyes briefly before looking to Ashe.

"Town...no...no this will do just fine."

Attraes nodded, his hand still resting over his heart.

"A strange feeling...confronted by death only to walk out the other side no worse for wears."

It appeared he was merely thinking out loud, his hand now resting onto the ground.

"There's a strength in you isn't there? Coiled like a toy waiting to be wound up at just the right click before uncoiling...I imagine it must be truly something."

He leaned over and placed his hand on the ground as if for support, but really he was channeling his energy to her. A sudden wave of fatigue would begin to blanket Ashetta in a flase sense of warmth and comfort.

Attraes could feel her essence begin to slip into him, and for the briefest moment his eyes flashed a brilliant blue, just as her own before the grey took over.

"You must forgive my own cautious nature...like you, I too am conflicted on acting on my own impulses...and like myself, you should be grateful to have appealing to my more civilized nature. Please understand...this is quite necessary..."

As her essence began to draw further, her eyes would begin to grow heavier until darkness and silence consumed her.

When she woke, she would wake laying back against a tree, his shirt draped over her to protect her from the cold as a contained fire burned near by.

Attraes glanced back briefly at her stirring, he appeared to be upright, healthier for the time being. His finger held out as he turned back and began whistling to a bright red bird that perched on a branch before him.

"The foundation of any sort of civilized existence is making a first impression. Within the first five minutes, it is believed you will know more about the person before you than you will ever come to know...I'm a firm believer in that."

He spoke, his back to Ashe as he continued to whistle to the bird.

"You saved my life, whether you choose to accept that or not is of no consequence to me...it is my truth, and why you were given a chance to wake."

The bird, lured by his charm hopped onto his finger, earning a chuckle.

"Fascinating isn't it...life and the essence of it in every little thing."

Attraes turned, bird on his finger as he leaned back against a large stone and faced his rescuer, as it were.

"I've never felt anything like that before...you have a remarkable strength...an essence with untapped, limitless potential."

His voice was calm, kind even as he continued to study the bird.

"I feel like perhaps...significance being what it is...I have failed to make a favorable first impression. Is that a correct assessment?"

Ashetta

{Bunny Permission granted by Jae}

Ashe watched his smirk as she clipped the flask back at her hip. Fear. Her lip feathered at that, and something hard filled her gaze. She wasn’t afraid of him, she had a healthy wariness of the strange magic user but she was not afraid, damnit. She didn’t respond to him, but he was removing his shirt - why was he removing his shirt? Her eyes narrowed as her head tilted, perplexed as his hand pressed over his heart. When he looked back at her, those gray eyes of his struck her as unsettling - something not quite original. Was he something else, where he was from? He didn’t look away from her as he went on, speaking of near death as a hand braced upon the ground. Her gut twisted as he spoke of her strength, as if he had known her for more than the minute he did. As if he knew anything about her at all. She wasn’t exactly sure she’d call festering desperation strength. Her fist tightened over that push-knife, and she didn’t answer him.. Part because she didn’t know how to answer his assessment, and part because her limbs, her eyes, her chest began to feel very, very heavy. As if the very earth were pulling her forward and down. Ashe blinked at the sleepy and unexpected warmth, watching his eyes flash into a quite hated shade of blue. There was the pinging of warning bells in the back of her mind, telling her something was wrong.. Instinctively her mind reached out, grasping for something that was no longer there with the alarm that dimly rose in her. She held his gaze for as long as she could as the color drained from her face, as her legs swayed until she dropped to her side from that crouch. Her breath grew very heavy, her heart a slow thud as blackness pushed at the edges of her vision. The world tilted as Attraes apologized, but she could barely understand him. No, was her final coherent thought as the ground rushed up to meet her and … oblivion. *** Ashe didn’t move when she first awoke. She kept her breathing steady, even as she breathed in the scent of a campfire, of cold night air. She kept her ears open, even as she heard someone stirring about over the sound of a gently crackling fire. She kept very still, feeling the bark of the tree behind her, the large shirt draped over her, the weakness that permeated her limbs. She tried to quell the racing of her heart. Attraes. Attraes had done this. Idiot girl. She waited for another minute. Two, before she finally stirred, fire-blue eyes flashing open as she slowly assessed her surroundings. They were in the same clearing, it seemed, the grass around them dead and blackened as ever. Ashetta swallowed harshly, her mouth painfully dry as she tried to blink away the hollow bleariness. Funny that when she should finally sleep, she would awaken feeling worse than she had since the last time she’d been poisoned. She took a deep breath through her nose as she assessed herself next: beyond feeling like she had just somehow survived copious amounts of belladonna, she felt nothing amiss. She hadn’t realized how much she had been dreading such a thing until she knew she was okay, that no one had done anything further.. As far as she could tell. She fought off the wave of nausea at that, finally flicking her gaze to the one responsible for this spell. She was quite startled to find he was looking at her, and the absence of his shirt had her realizing it was over the top of her. She held his gaze until he turned his back to her, starting to speak eloquently about first impressions. Her lip curled back in a sneer, but he couldn’t see it. She shoved his shirt off of her, forcing her limbs to work as she sat up, eyes never once leaving Attraes. She scoffed aloud as he named her his savior - she was no one’s savior, not a soul. Taking advantage of his back turned to her, she braced herself against the tree he had lay her against.. And she tried not to panic at the thought of someone touching her, moving her, as she lay unconscious. She pushed herself to her feet, and she fought to hide the trembling in her legs as she leaned back against the tree. She steadied herself just as the dark-haired man turned back at her with a bird upon his finger, gray eyes that should have been sightless settling on her. Her eyes were wary as she regarded him - smiling, his skin full of color and all around appearing far more lively than when she had found him. How much time had passed since then? She wanted to glance at the sky, to gauge the time, but she didn’t dare take her eyes from him. As he spoke of.. feeling her essence... her lips pressed into a thin line. Wrong about the strength, she thought. Nothing about her was strong, not anymore. Not that she needed to tell him that. Easy to understand what his magic was - to take from others and fuel himself. He said she’d saved his life. Would he have died without him.. feeding on her? Was it her soul he took from? Her magic? Questions, questions, questions. Not yet. She had never seen this kind of magic, and it took every ounce of self control not to burst with all she wanted to ask him. ”Correct,” she hissed at him. The hand that wasn’t keeping her steady against the tree hung close to her hip where her knives lay - Reckoning in its scabbard on her back would take too long should she need it, and she had to remind herself of her magic. She was not helpless, would not be helpless. She tried not to let herself think about all he could have done to her. His face and his voice both were kind and gentle now… but she of all people knew not to trust such things. Stupid, idiot fucking girl. ”Nearly killing me isn’t what one might call a good fucking show of gratitude. Who are you, Attraes?” Attraes ashetta it's live or die my way.

Attraes Evil is powerless if the good are unafraid "Had you known me before waking here, you would think differently." Attraes mused as the bird on his finger began to shrivel and whither, Attraes still whistling as the bird had. " That is a rather broad question with even broader answers. You need to be specific Ashetta." He grinned and settled against onto a stump as he looked over the young woman. "Allow me to indulge in the obvious." Attraes slowly grinned, his dimples deep and lined perfectly "You have blood on your hands...call it a sixth sense among the initiated. Your eyes remain still, never fluctuating even when you wake from what could have been a rather...painful experience while you were out. You have death in your eyes." His finger raised and motioned to his own, unwavering, stone-like stare. "As do I. Granted we may have had different paths or reasons of...catering to our primal urges, but we are initiated aren't we? How many lives have you taken? And so young too...do you think of them? Those you left in your wake? When you do, are they alive? Like the moments just before you took it from them, or are they husks of flesh without souls. Eyes black as night, aimlessly wandering, searching for you..." Hands folded across his knees as he remained in a lean over position. "I close my eyes every night and I see every helpless soul I extinguished. While some may fear that, or become overtaken with self-pity and remorse...I simply watch them. Wander, aimless and pathetic. Proud I parted them from a world they didn't deserve." The manner in which he spoke was absolute, as if telling her a recipe for a pie. He was so easy and casual about all of it. "In short, I am a killer. Who...are...You Ashetta?"

Ashetta’s eyes flickered down to the bird perched upon his hand, watched it crumple into a husk as the sound of his whistling replaced its song. What his words implied had a chill creeping up her spine, locking it into place as she watched him. Leaving her alive was an expression of gratitude. The raven-haired girl watched the remains of the bird thump lightly to the ground, and she swore her heart dropped with it, everything drowned out by the sound. His voice uttering her name broke through the muted sound of dread, and Ashe flashed her eyes back up at Attraes . Her breath stalled as a grin slowly pulled the corners of his mouth up, and she didn’t know what it was about it that had her so frozen. Maybe it was the words he spoke as he pressed on that did it. She worked on her balance and stood straighter, taller, forced herself not to look down at her hands like there would really be gloves of sticky red over them. As if to punctuate his assessment of her, Ashe’s eyes never even flickered from his, even when dread coiled in her gut. ” … what could have been a rather...painful experience while you were out … “ She skipped over that with a wildly racing heart, unwilling to consider it yet. She focused herself on everything else he said, on every movement he made from where he sat. How is it she had stumbled upon him? Following a wake of rot and decay - it didn’t quite surprise her that she had found a killer. But something about the way he spoke about it had inner hackles rising with wariness. Proud of the lives he’d taken … why did he take him? Who were they? A world they didn’t deserve. She wasn’t sure what to think of that or the casual way he talked about it, and she opened her mouth to tell him to clarify - ”Who...are...you Ashetta?” The assassin’s hand left the tree, and she stood now on her own before the man she’d saved. Who was she? She might have snapped at him, hissed and asked what kind of fucking question that was, but she had asked him the very same. Ashetta refused to break his gaze, but she remained silent as her blood turned to ice. Who was she? Well… he was right in one thing about her - she could not deny that, would not. She saw the blood, the blank faces and glassed over eyes, the smell, the phantom gurgles and gasps and cries of death. Not just the ones who fell under her blades, but what of the ones she never meant to hurt? She had knowingly chosen to take lives, no matter what her mother said about her only being a child, she had still made that choice. Seven years old or seventeen, did it matter when the blood still looked the same on her hands every time? ”A killer is what I am,” she said as reached for the flask of water at her hip, never taking her eyes off of him as she pulled a short sip from it. ”Who I am..” She kept her eyes on him even as she replaced the flask back at her hip and stood on steadier legs. He had given her an honest answer it seemed. Certainly nothing clear, but she could feel the truth in what he said, she could see it. He was a killer, and a cold one. ”I’m no one. Nothing.” Ashe let silence lapse for a long moment as she regarded him, and she wondered for a moment what it was like: to not only accept what the atrocities she had commit, the people she hurt, but to take pride in it. But didn’t she already? Didn’t such a large part of her revel in the hunt, in the kill, the way her name had been feared by the masses? Didn’t she love getting away with a masterful kill, didn’t she learn to crave the rush of delivering death to the ones that actually deserved it? It didn’t matter now. Did it ever? She was nothing, and if she stayed on track… everyone would forget her, and she could find her way out of this place, out into that bigger world. ”Why are you a killer, Attraes?” Ashetta asked, and her tone had lapsed into something far more academic.. Though her eyes sparked with recognition now, understanding the likeness between two predators. ashetta it's live or die my way.