Aivon shifted his stare to Rhaeryn for a moment, then glanced back to Mordev.

"You knew that we would be here? Because you surely have not had time to send messengers to their families since I and my ward entered the hall."

Being Rhaeryn's bodyguard, should he make the decision to trust this man and go to the capitol with him? Or should he just follow Rhaeryn's lead, despite the fact that she was only thirteen years old and prone to rash decisions? Decisions could be so much trouble.

_________________

Sila wondered what her parents would think. Would they mind that she and Suakii leave with a total stranger to go to the capitol and unndergo 'vigorous training'?

She was still a little wary both about Mordev and her new powers, but she was also excited and curious. It wasn't often that something this interesting happened to her.

_________________
I'm back!

"I knew," Mordev said evenly. His silver eyes scrutinized the group before him. They were taking this in better than he'd hoped. "Are you all in agreement to go to the capital? I warn you now - once you've entered this war, there is no turning back."

It was a bit of a rhetorical question, one that Mordev wouldn't take "no" for an answer. He knew that should they disagree, he would have to find a way to kill them. The risk of one of them falling into Grenik's influence was too great.

_________________

((ok, forgive me for sounding stupid, but what exactly does a mage do? and, SG, you made the country, how far would it be from the capital to the study hall place y'all are in?))

Sielio swung his leg over his saddle, taking up his reins, this could be a long ride. he had sent some of his men ahead, they would ask around to see if anyone knew where Mordev had gone, hopefully, they would find him quickly, and without delay from Rhiosim, if not....this could take a while...he spurred his horse on down the road, a quick trot kept him with the rest of his men.

_________________
Go out and spread the Gospel. Use words if necessary.

NeverAlone

We are The Redeemed, we are the ones who are free! We belong to Jesus! We are now alive, and in this world we will shine! We belong to Jesus! ~ "We Shine" by Unhindered

Rhaeryn glanced up at Aivon's face, but she couldn't guess his thoughts from his expression. "I...don't know," she said hesitantly. "I don't think I want to be in a war."

_________________

Aivon glared at Mordev. The only real question now was whether or not they went back to Rhaeryn's family for a short while before they moved to the capitol--the Kiani were much too dangerous to be left uncontrolled, and there was no way he could protect all of them. Plus, he had no idea how skilled Mordev was--he could easily be more skilled than Aivon.

"I'm afraid we don't have a choice, lass," he said softly in response to Rhaeryn's voiced uncertainty.

"I and my ward will accompany you, Mordev, and may the gods strike you down if you mean her harm," he ground out, resting his hand on the pommel of his sword.

_________________

((Ok, so here's my evil guy! Genrik!! ((Yes, Miss little 'Grenik sounds too much like the Grinch' over there *points to Kelenloth* Demanded - I mean uh.... Suggested that I change his name to Genrik. I don't know why I listened to her, but anywho...))))

Genrik stalked past the pitiful, shaking, terrified 'guards' that protected his house. They wern't soldiers, but at least they payed him respect and allegiance. "And one day, those lap dogs won't be needed anymore, and I can finally dispose of them..." he snarled to himself, casting a disgusted look over his shoulder at the still-shaking pair. Rolling his arrogent eyes under his jet black brows, he stormed into his study, and landed in the overstuffed chair that inhabited it. He sank back into the rich fabric that surrounded his body, making his lean figure appear quite thin, due to the amount of pillows that engulfed his torso. Smiling ever so slightly, he got up after a few moments, and began browsing his shelves for more information on the Ignae Kiani. He soon found it, as it was not hard to find in his extencive library on the subject. He opened one book after another, he scanned through them until he found what he wanted - Birth records. This docment had cost many lives to obtain "Thanfully not mine... He thought to himself as he carefully turned the book's fragile pages. Looking through the birth records, which were all from the currently existing Kiani, he calcluated the ages that his siblings must be now, just before a wicked, sly smirk spread itself across his lips.

Eighteen..... The number echoed through his head, bringing up many memories of his own eighteenth birthday, which emedietly rid his face of the smirk he had been wearing, replacing it with rage-filled eyes.

"Eighteen..." He repeated the word, with hatred in his voice. Hatred for his 'family'. If he had had his real family, he would have had everything he needed. But no, he got some poor cripple for a mother, and an abusive fisherman for a father. He had known no siblings, and he got all the blame. He had to work for his 'family's' life, and he got no love in return, just a surprise on his eighteenth birthday.... And also hatred for the former king, and anyone who followed in his bloodline. If he hadn't been such a coward, and such a lazy, papered man, none of this would have happened. Grenik thought back to that day, and then realized he had been making a small tornado appear on his desk. Emedietly stopping it, he straightened up the papers on the long wooden desk and returned to his work.

Then, he heard rootsteps approaching. The footsteps of his commander in chief... "Oh dear heavens... Not more lecturing and complaints!" For one of the few, rare occations, Genrik's face showed the clear emotion of horror, with a tinge of helplessness. He then quickly vanished in to the air, and then launched himelf with his power over the air up onto one of the high bookshelves kept in his study. He didn't plan to come down any time soon...

_________________
You may (or may not) know me elsewhere as Elfpen

Rhaeryn considered complaining about this. She was not entirely sure she liked being forced into someone else's war. But at least it would be more interesting than sitting at home doing needlework, right?

"That's all right, Aivon," she said after a moment, with an infectious grin. "If things continue as they have been, by the end of this 'training' I'll be able to strike him down myself."

_________________

Sila thought in silence for a moment. She glanced at Mordev. She could tell by his demeanor and the way he spoke that she didn't have much choice in the matter. She wasn't the type of person to fight in a war. Violence wasn't usually something she leaned towards, but she supposed that if it was important enough- as this matter seemed to be- she could do it.

"I will go," she said firmly with resolve.

_________________
I'm back!

Suakii stepped forward to her sister in two long strides, and placed her hand on her sisters shoulder.

"That means I'm going as well, sir."

_________________
You may (or may not) know me elsewhere as Elfpen

"I'll go," Latanya said after a moment's hesitation. She knew her family didn't like her. Nobody ever cared where she was, why, etc....

_________________

- married fingon fingolfinion 6/4/13 -
~art credit~

[shall we skip ahead a few years to when their training is almost complete?]

_________________

(Fine by me)
Orono spoke up. "If it means learning more about this ability I have, and learning to control it, then I am willing."

((Sure! Now... Who wants to start us there?))

_________________
You may (or may not) know me elsewhere as Elfpen

(Not me. But i'll get us there...)

So then they all trained and stuff for a while. Etcetera. And now it's a couple years later and everybody can use their talents! So...

_________________

- married fingon fingolfinion 6/4/13 -
~art credit~

[may godmode a few of Genrik's plans if that's all right... and I'll put a name to the city]

Five years.

Five years of training, both unconventional and not. Five years of the Ignae Kiani undergoing instruction under the most powerful mages and clerics on Ikrean. They had been happy at the capital city under Sielio's rule - happy and content within fortified walls. Five years of minor skirmishes and that awful waiting.

Genrik had not yet struck.

A pale moon sailed in velvety darkness, bathing the battlements and guard towers of the city, Cerlian, in wan silver. The city slumbered on serenely, for the years of peace had induced a sense of security above all.

A false sense. So thought Mordev as he wove among the shadows in the forbidding wood twenty miles east of the capital. Impersonating a shadow himself, with his twin kukris loose in their sheaths, he crested a bluff and looked upon the sight before him.

How many were there? Ten thousand? Twenty thousand? Enough to breach even mighty Cerlian's walls? And soldiers were not all that Genrik had at his disposal, Mordev knew. As he scanned the dark skies, he spotted them. Wyverns. Only about half a dragon's size, but still thirty feet from snout to lashing tail nonetheless. Wyverns that could drop burning brands and soldiers right into the city.

As he gazed at the thousands of campfires dotting the vast plain before him, he couldn't help but wonder. Were they ready? And even if the Kiani were prepared, could they aid Cerlian's own mass of defenders in defeating a force of this magnitude? He thought grimly as he walked back to his horse and kicked it into a full gallop back towards Cerlian, They will have no choice.

_________________