Thael+ND's Spectacular 1x2!

[Thaelasan]

What Nico did not know was that Alfred had awoken three hours earlier, his anxiety to read the text forcing his eyes open so that he could glance it over.

And so he had. For three hours, he had perused the book quietly, leaving Mellena to slumber peacefully beside him. Finally, upon finishing, he had leaped from the bed, ran to the door, and swung it open...

Only to see the young Marid sitting there, confused.

"Oh! Nico! You will not believe this, I assure you!" Alfred promised, holding the book out tenderly. "Your father knew about his lineage all along! He knew I was right! But if the text in this book is right... well there are quite a few things Rasul probably has on his mind, if he read all of this."

[Neutual Demon]

The door swung open in front of him before he could knock a second time, Alfred standing before him. He blinked up at the man, his eyes trailing back down to the book that he held as the ruler claimed he had read at least some of the book because it proved that his father knew all about what Alfred came to tell him all along.

"I... what?" Nico started stupidly, staring at Alfred. "What do you mean he already knew? Why didn't he say anything then?" He rubbed his temples, shaking his head. "If you wish to talk to him he's down in the Vaults- again."

[Thaelasan]

Alfred hurriedly nodded at Nico before dashing out of the door, wrapping his robe around him. Millena, however, wasn't as awake. She yawned, rising from the bed to rub her eyes.

"What...? What's all the noise?" she asked, confused. She turned, looking for Alfred.

"Oh. Where'd he go...?" she sighed, looking at Nico.

 

-----

 

Alfred ran down the steps, dodging a few servants along the way as he headed down towards the vaults.

He soon began using his wings to move faster, disrupting the bodies of a few Jann as he blew past them. He finally ended up at the vault door, winded, as he pushed it open with a grin wide upon his face.

"Rasul! You knew all along, didn't you?" he asked, looking to see what the Djinn was doing. "You knew! You knew you were the true king!"

[Neutual Demon]

Nico moved out of the way before Alfred could plow him over, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched the older ruler disappear down the hallway. If anyone could get to the bottom of this, it was Alfred, especially when it came down to getting information from Rasul. If his father had known he was supposed to be a ruler all along, Alfred would be the only one to receive any answer as to why the Ifrit had kept it hidden for so long.

The shifting of fabric and a yawn jolted the Marid from watching the hallway to turning his attention towards the bed. He averted his eyes though, as the lady was still a bit rumpled from sleep and turned his attention to the wall instead. "He found something interesting within the book I had given him," he said, shifting on his feet. "My father... may have already known his bloodline was tied to the throne. Alfred went to seek him out and get answers."

 

Rasul had been organizing and labeling a new shipment of artifacts to examine and place on the many shelves of the Vault when the doors flew open and Alfred came streaming in, breathless. The Ifrit nearly dropped three boxes he had been levitating up to one of the higher shelves, but he had regained concentration so they had only dropped a few inches. He merely grunted noncommittally at the lizard-brained distracting idiot, completing in putting boxes in their resting places before letting his magic drop.

"Found the book, didn't you? You never could keep your fat nose out of 'em." he retorted, walking past the other ruler and to the dozen or so other crates and boxes that littered the floor in various states of assemblage. He squatted down before one, his hands rippling with an amber light as he held it over the pottery within, examining the magic it contained with fiery eyes.

He ended the spell, letting the glow fade before placing the cover back over the container and ran his fingers over the lid, murmuring a soft spell under his breath to seal it. "Whatever the book says is true or not, I am not a king or a ruler of any sort. You can preach and prod and puppy-eye me all you want, but no matter how much 'truth' you dig up, the simple fact that I'm terrible at it will remain."

He levitated the container, walking it down two rows in and down partway through before depositing it on one of the higher shelves. "That book is old and full of rambling anyway. I can't even understand half a lick of it from what I could read of it. I don't know why you want to beat this horse into the ground, it's not going to get you anywhere far." Really, he couldn't understand why Alfred bothered. He knew the Ifrit's problems of ruling, and no matter how many convincing takes he could whip up, the Djinn populace wouldn't rest until they hauled his fiery ass out of the palace and thrown into the ocean. He rubbed his left shoulder absently at the thought of the ocean, his lips curling into a small frown at the pain it still emitted. That attack was only one of many, and there would be more to come. He didn't want to admit that he was growing tired- not figuratively because of the attacks, but physically. The last attempt nearly killed him, and left him almost without an arm. He actually would have lost it if he hadn't patched it back together with magic once he had woken up. Half coherent, pain-ridden spell casting was close to one of the most stupidest things he had ever done, and he still lived with the pain of his efforts, but at least he hadn't given his attackers the satisfaction of weakening him further.

No...nothing would change if all facts came out true and he was supposed to have been the ruler all along- which was a silly thought all on its own. He would die defending his position or be killed giving it to Nico, no matter how hard Alfred tried to convince him otherwise.

[Thaelasan]

Alfred listened intently, knowing the Djinn was going to try and push him away again. In fact, one reason Alfred hadn't attempted a healing spell - or at the very least, a soothing spell - on Rasul's shoulder was because he respected one thing between the two of them: their honor. Rasul's honor came from his victories as both an Ifrit gladiator on the rise to the throne, and his protection of it. Alfred's honor came from the rising of his city and the raising of his family. Both of them had their boundaries, and Alfred would not cross those unless asked.

But it didn't mean it didn't make him wince to see the Ifrit rubbing his shoulder so sorely. Sighing, he crossed his arms and frowned.

"Your ancestor's mindset was similar to yours, as were all the rest. They'd SAY they didn't enjoy ruling, but as the book progresses, it's apparent their jobs got easier somehow. The book wasn't just from the mindset of one Ifrit ruler - it was every single one. You have to say the name of a ruler to activate their chapter of the book, which took me a long time to figure out. It was a very original concept, to say the least. I went ahead and started your chapter by using the necessary spells. I would have let you do it, but the spells weren't commonplace ones by today's standards - they were Ifritian magic from FAR, far ago, even before your time, my time, or my father's. Thankfully, I've had to use similar spells on other Djinn-based artifacts we've found near the borders of your country. And, as always, when finished researching them, we've packed them up and sent them to your country immediately afterward. After all..." Alfred said, with the flair of his hand. "It just doesn't do to keep history that isn't yours from the rightful owners. And we've never had issues with you returning Dragonkin relics in most cases, I don't think. Then again... it's a bunch of lizard-people junk, isn't it, Rasul? Don't want that around your vaults?"

He laughed for a good moment at his small bit of humor before sighing.

"Indeed. In any case, you're right. A book by itself won't prove anything. The Marid and other Djinn who still aren't loyal to you could easily say the book was enchanted or manufactured. I can see why you wouldn't have shown it sooner. However, the book does mention a Crown of the Ifrit that was lost after the coup. It's a symbol of rule that has been eternal since the dawn of this country. However, the book also mentions, in the last entry, not only where the crown is, but also where the 'god' was buried."

He held out the book for the Ifrit to take, his face proud.

"I've prepared a written translation of most of the entries of any significance. I could continue the translation, if you desire, but some of the chapters are very hard to convert to our language. They invoke mixed feelings rather than images, meaning that they're a pun on multiple words and tie them together. I wish I could explain it better."

 

----

 

Mellena adjusted her nightclothes and sighed.

"Well, I'm still slightly tired." she admitted, smiling at Nico. "I think I'll take a bit more sleep and then I shall join my husband. If you would."

Edited December 20, 2014 by Thaelasan

[Neutual Demon]

Alfred naturally liked to continue to press the matter, with him carrying on about the book and how amazing it was in both historical background and magical enchantments while slipping in hints and clues that his supposed ancestors felt the same way about ruling. Rasul stifled a snort at that, rolling his eyes as he went to navigate another crate to its resting place. Things got easy because all the competition and rabble-rousers had been handled accordingly. Besides, they had at least some allies amongst their people- Rasul was lucky to have the collective handful that he had.

"Not my fault your scaly scraps of crockery take up so much damn space," the Ifrit retorted, turning to look over his shoulder to smirk at Alfred. "They tend to act fricken wonky around the Djinn magic anyway. No need to try to blow myself up more than I have."

Rasul rolled his eyes once more at Alfred carrying on about a supposedly ancient artifact and the location of the buried god. "You still going on about that?" he grumbled, lifting the last box onto the shelf. "I don't need a gaudy piece of jewelry that no one but you remembers, and 'gods' buried under the sand is just a stupid story. When are those chunks of rock arriving anyway? You said sometime this today." He just wanted to finish reading what was on the walls- who cares if the story was all just a mythical tale? "I hate fracking crowns," he growled not-too quietly under his breath as he made his way towards the desk, cooling his hands as he picked up a writing instrument to scratch haphazardly on parchment a list of all the things he just stored. He'd take monstrous mythical god-like beings over crowns any day. At least he could kill the monsters off.

"Keep the damn book," he said, waving his hand at Alfred and not looking up from his writing. "You can finish it at your leisure and I'll ignore everything that's in it accordingly."

 

Nico nodded in agreement at Mellena. "Shall I wake you when breakfast is served, or will you wish for it to be brought up to you?" he asked, his eyes now turned to look at the silk curtains adorning the windows.

Edited December 21, 2014 by Neutual Demon

[Thaelasan]

Alfred sighed. Rasul wasn't going to listen until the wall was brought in.

"Well, they could be at your gates right now..." he mentioned, frowning. "I wonder why they haven't been brought, actually..."

 

(( PLOT TWIST. ))

 

-----

 

Mellena nodded kindly, laying her head back down.

"That would be lovely. Thank you, Nico." she said gratefully, her eyes slowly closing.

[Neutual Demon]

(( PLOT TWISTS ALREADY?! ))

 

Rasul looked up from his writing, a frown marring his face before his eyes glittered up as the frown morphed into a smirk. "Your dragon-assed friends got lost, didn't they?" he said, setting the pen down and rubbed feeling back into his hand as he let the warmth of his fires rush back into the appendage. "I can see it now- a bunch of scary-faced idiots flying around with giant fricken blocks of chiseled rock, going in circles over the ocean. They'll get tired and drop the whole thing into the water and land on some Marid's head to start some international crisis." He chortled at the thought, shaking his head as he moved away from the table.

"Let's go up and see if any of the guards spotted them yet. Can't be too hard to miss; flying boulders."

 

Nico nodded and left quietly, shutting the door behind him before he headed back towards the kitchens to see how breakfast was going.

[Thaelasan]

Suddenly, from behind Alfred, a man came hurtling through the door. He was obviously draconian. Two Jann guards were attempting to constrain him but it's hard to contain a dragonkin, no matter the situation. As they picked him up from the ground, Alfred quickly ran to the man's side, recognizing him as one of the messengers normally sent from his kingdom.

"My liege!" the man yelled, struggling to breathe. "The others! They.."

"What happened?!" Alfred asked, concerned, placing both of his hands on the man's shoulder. "Garthan! Speak to me! What happened?!"

"We were flying.. flying.. across the northern border of Venalus, to the west... when... when arrows..."

"Arrows?"

"Poisoned arrows... poisoned with something... we don't know what it was... They shot each of us.. hundreds of arrows... I.."

"What!?" Alfred asked, now fully almost frantic.

"I dropped the tablet, and I ran! I ran, my lord! I'm so sorry!" Garthan pleaded. "I didn't want to die.. and I watched each of them fall.. I'm such a coward!"

"How many died!? And how many of the enemy were there!?"

"...Hundreds... sir.. They were all dressed in cowls... they shot at us without reason! It's like they knew we were coming!" Garthan responded, grabbing Alfred's arms to steady himself. "I got hit.. I think... The arrow.. the venom.."

"Rasul! Where is your medical bay!?" Alfred asked, turning. "Or at least some place to help him!?"

[Neutual Demon]

Rasul's brow furrowed as two guards and a lizard face came into focus. The latter was a complete mess, but still struggling against the Jann guards that had managed to catch up to the dragon-ass.

"Let him go," Rasul snapped at the two guards as Alfred ran to question his man. The guards did as they were told, looking a bit ruffled but remained silent. The Ifrit ignored them as he moved to stand closer to the scaly pair, his fiery eyes flickering from one to the other. The transport had been ambushed, but how did they know of it coming so soon? His lips curled into a silent scowl. There was a spy amongst the ranks again, it seemed. Damn it all, and he was doing quite well in not killing anyone off lately.

The messenger was having trouble standing, the poison setting in.

"No time," Rasul said, sweeping over in one step and taking hold of the man, lifting him completely off the floor and carried him back to his desk to set him down on. He couldn't hide his grimace of pain that his shoulder sent stabbing at him, but he had more important things to worry about. The medical bay was too far away, as by then the poison might've worked its way through by then. Besides, Rasul hadn't gotten this far without some medical knowledge, and he was in a room surrounded by various artifacts that only he knew exactly what they do.

"Find the wound and unclothe him," he told Alfred before giving a short yell to the two guards to go grab a healer. He heard the pair scurry away as he disappeared down the many aisles and rows of shelves.

He came back to the injured scaly idiot, pulling a top off a small glass jar and retrieving a dried, round thing. "Suck on this," the Ifrit growled, grabbing the injured man by the chin and pushed the thing to his lips. "Do not swallow it. It'll keep you from dying faster while I figure out what exactly you were poisoned with." And by then the slow guards would arrive with the healer. It would be the first and only time he would let anyone else in the Vaults. It was not some curious room tourists could wander in and out of, after all.

He dabbed his fingers into some of the blood on the man's clothing, lifting it to his nose to sniff, then lick. His face immediately twisted into a very disgusted look before spitting it out on the floor. "Carthara's Root," he spat out, running his tongue over his teeth as if trying to scrape the taste off. But Carthara's Root wasn't a poison- it was a stabilizing agent as well as a disguiser to more potent, but unstable poisons and toxins.

"If there's an arrow head, pull it out. Pliers are in one of the drawers," was all he said to Alfred before he disappeared back into the shelves. Blazing fires, where the fracking hell was that damned healer?!

[Neutual Demon]

(bumping for potatoes)

[Thaelasan]

Alfred did as told, as in this situation he was in no position to argue. He removed the clothes surrounding the wound, which was located in his leg, apparently, upper right thigh. He quickly began searching the man's wound for an arrowhead. Unfortunately, he found one, buried in the bone, a splinter of the original fired projectile. He removed the aforementioned tool from the drawers and grasped the arrow fragment firmly, pulling it gently but surely from the man's flesh. The draconian let out a muffled screech of pain, which was constrained because of his own numbness and his desire not to show his immense agony.

"You're a brave man." Alfred commented, checking the wound further. The man nodded, obviously suffering, but still alive. His breathing was labored.

"The femoral artery was near there... luckily it doesn't seem as though the arrow cut it." Alfred said, relaxing a bit. He turned to the man and began gesturing for him to relax.

"If you get nervous or anxious, you will only accelerate the venom. Just breathe. I will not allow you to pass in my presence." Alfred assured, holding out his hand. It began to glow, lightly, with a white-yellow aura.

Alfred admittedly hadn't needed to use healing magics in years, as most of that was handled by the apothecaries and hospitals surrounding his kingdom's rings. His movement to increase the research speed of medical magics and sciences had paid off - but it also meant he was out of practice.

"Ulsar des vanalos... Damn, no. That's not correct. He's not laying a foot upon you it's a hand. Damn!" he cursed, sighing. "Ulsar des funalos es moten...... derus!

The final word of the spell came to him as he began to heal the man's wound, at least stopping further infection and stabilizing his condition further. But now it was a matter of getting an antidote - oral, injected, or topical - to this man before the poison did its work.

"Who would have done this? Poisons have been outlawed in most of the current kingdoms... besides the Djinn (because they never used them anyway..)" he said as a bit of an aside. "As well as.... gah.. all the lesser kingdoms between Ulsarus and Zulfiqar..."

Edited February 3, 2015 by Thaelasan

[Neutual Demon]

Alfred did was he had been told, removing the arrowhead and keeping the other scaly ass from dying on them. Rasul was reluctantly thankful for that. He wasn't the most calming presence to be around, especially if the person was bleeding all over his desk. He would have most likely knocked the flying lizard out just so he wouldn't have to hear him screech in pain. Maybe it was just him not liking dealing with injured people in general, never the one to be the calm and soothing touch to the wound. He was a bit too acidic and cold to be a decent healer- that was why Alfred was there.

The Ifrit had just reemerged from the thousands of shelves when hurrying footsteps announced the arrival of the healer, the Marid hurrying straight to the injured with a bag full of medical items slung over one shoulder. Behind her the two Jann guards and Nico ran into the room, the younger Marid's face unusually grim.

"What is what you need me to do?" Nico asked once he stepped alongside his adoptive father.

The Ifrit was silent for a moment, his face pulled into a serious look that unnerved the two Jann guards of whom both he and Nico ignored their slight shuffling. "Send troops to the location," Rasul growled. "An attack on Ulsarus troops is an attack on Zulfiqar. Send word to the kingdom to announce their arrival and reasoning. If they know better, they will help take care of this problem unless this group of hooded soldiers was caused by their own hand. If that's the case, they better pray to whatever gods they worship."

"I will send out the Falcon Company; the Jann will get there faster," Nico said. "Shall we allow them to follow the attackers if a trail is found?"

Rasul nodded with a grunt. "Take a healer or two with you as well- there is still a chance a survivor or two are still kicking." He waved a hand, an obvious dismissal as Nico bowed and walked out of the Vaults with firm determination in his step.

The Ifrit blew out a sigh through his nose before moving over towards the desk where the two scaly hides and the healer were at.

The Marid healer only took a glance at Rasul when she felt his presence, focused on her work. She had already given the antidote to the injured lizard, and was making sure it did its job while examining the wound that Alfred seemed to have healed. "It's King's Bane," she spoke, working as she talked. "It's a very fast acting poison. Very versatile in the brewing process but extremely potent. For humans it can be lethal in a matter of seconds. You are very fortunate that you are both not human and seem to have a natural resistance against poisoning, although if my lord and Lord Alfred hadn't aided you, I may have been working with a corpse by now."

She lifted her eyes from the injured soldier to look at Rasul. "He is stable enough to move, my lord."

Rasul nodded and gestured for the two Jann guards. "Use them to assist."

He turned his fiery eyes to Alfred, stepping beside him. "I sent troops," he murmured to him. "There may be more survivors, but the chances are slim. Let's just hope that this attack is a work of an outside group and not a kingdom; I was starting to enjoy the peace."

[Thaelasan]

Alfred was actually shocked.

Rasul... wanted to enjoy.. the peace?

But, then again, with the internal struggle he was dealing with, the son he was raising, and the other affairs he had to allow to happen...

Alfred understood now. Though Rasul had once been a war hungry king, who had desired to stretch the boundaries of his country in an attempt to perhaps sway the Marid to his side, he'd only ended up making himself look like a power-starved fool, and now he was regretting it. His days of conflict were behind him, and he wanted it to stay that way. As the Djinn stood by him now, Alfred could only barely see the flicker of the once bright, burning flame that he had met over a thousand years ago.

"You're right. Let's hope that's the case." Alfred agreed. He shuffled his feet slightly. Gods, he didn't want this sort of trouble, especially when he and Mellena were away from home. Now, he was afraid of even trying to fly back, though the Blade of Zunite was a formidable foe, fighting hordes of cultists with poisoned arrows was not something to be taken lightly.

He crossed his arms, concerned.

"However, it does trouble me." he admitted. "The flight was a quick, spontaneous one. I told no one of my plans to move the stones to Zulfiqar, besides the messengers themselves and perhaps the Academy... I can't remember now..."

He trusted the archaeologists there with his life, and they had no reason to shoot down three, innocent messengers, no matter what they were carrying. No one there had outside ties, and he had known each of them for roughly 200 years. So who...

"We'll figure out how it leaked out later." he finally decided. "And if it was, indeed, my people who were responsible... regrettably, I would deal with them as I would deal with the crime of treason.. and even dragonkin give the death sentence... though I haven't had to do that since my kingdom was established...."

He sighed disdainfully. He really didn't want to see a dragonkin decapitated if he could help it. They were like his children now, his beloved people. Each of them had lives that they freely told him of. They all respected him, he believed. He had no internal struggle, and their long lifespans and resistance to disease had helped him avoid population problems. The only issues they had were constraints to how many children they could have, and it was understood why that was a rule. It was lenient as well. Three children every 500 years.

Ah well. If they had indeed turned upon him purposefully, a blade was the only answer...

[Neutual Demon]

The dragon-mutt shifted beside him, the movement drawing Rasul's attention to the scaly ruler. It was evident that the other ruler was uncomfortable with this turn of events, and he had all right to be. His people had been murdered without provocation, and Alfred was one of those touchy-feely sort of kings who coveted and babied his people so much that the mere thought of betrayal and possible execution of said betrayal made the man uneasy. Rasul had no such qualms, but that was because his people were just as likely to kill him as he was to kill them, so they survived on hair-thin tolerance.

"It is more than likely that whoever did tip off this attack was on my end," the Ifrit huffed, folding his arms over his chest, wincing at the twinge of pain that stabbed through his shoulder. He had moved it around too much in such a short span of time, and it was quite clearly telling him so. He ignored it, though. "Thieves and spies are common, especially when artifacts are involved. That, or someone is poking a sleeping bear with a stick, but to what end is beyond me."

He glanced down at his desk, scowling at the mess that was slowly drying on the polished stone surface. "In any case, we'll discuss this later, hopefully after breakfast if you're hungry at least. You should probably tell that wife of yours about the situation in the meantime. I'm sure she'll rain fire and brimstone on someone's ass soon enough and it'll be fricken hilarious to watch." He unfolded his arms, rubbing tentatively at the injured side before turning to the doorway. "Hopefully the troops I had Nico send out will bring light to the situation... if they're not utterly useless."

[Thaelasan]

"Of course. Hopefully, Rebirth is not involved... They're the closest to creating peace in those warring human settlements...." Alfred trailed off, coughing slightly. "And... and yes I shall inform Mellena of what has happened."

"No need, my darling." Mellena said, finishing wrapping her robe about her as she walked into the vault. "The noise made me come down here already."

"Then, you-"

"Yes. I know exactly what's going on, Alfred." she repeated. "We grew lazy in our enjoyment of this peace. We allowed sacred relics, ancient history, to be taken under our noses. And now we're standing around, discussing war and politics when all we really need to do is get them back."

"But Mellena.." Alfred protested. "We have no idea who we're fighting here-"

"And if we allow this problem to continue, it could lead to them believing that they can continue this without retaliation. Whoever the enemy is, we must show them that the dragonkin can still bite." she said, gripping her fist tightly. "How dare they strike against those messengers in cold blood, perhaps even killing them. This... this I will not allow to stand. You may able to idle, Alfred, but I will destroy anyone who lays hands upon our people."

"...Then I will accompany you." Alfred finally said, having lost. "I would not be able to rest knowing you were in any danger."

"As I knew you would." Mellena smirked. "Rasul, then?"

They both turned to him, wondering if he would come along.

[Neutual Demon]

Rasul turned, his fiery eyes gazing to Mellena as the lizard woman strolled into the room. She wasted no time in grilling into Alfred, ready to draw blood from the attackers. The Ifrit sometimes forgot how vicious Alfred's wife could be. She was usually so quiet and calm, but then moments like these prove to everyone why she's really the one in charge.

The Ifrit stood back, letting Mellena take care of Alfred with her sharp words, easily cowing him into joining her to the site of the massacre. Then the eyes turned to him with Mellena questioning if he was coming along.

"Oh alright," he huffed, rubbing his shoulder once more before letting his arms fall to his sides. "Someone has to keep you from going psycho on us since Alfred won't be able to handle it." Not like he would be able to either, but he wasn't one to be talked down all the same. Also it gave him the opportunity of leaving the Vaults and having an excuse to Nico that, yes, he did get outside for some fresh air. Alongside that, he needed to make sure the company he dispatched did their job and not dork around and muddled the evidence.

[Thaelasan]

...and there, in the beginning, it hovered.

The Nothingness.

An all-expansive, empty, colorless, tasteless, soundless, scentless, unfeeling mass. Twisted, inorganic, it lay within the abyss of everything, where it began. Birthed of a void instead of a womb, it had no feelings, no emotions, no sentience. It was the Nothingness, and that was all it would be.

Yet within the Nothingness, which spanned infinite space and time, churned Chaos. From Chaos was born the first Something, a mass which had weight and took up space, existing.

The Nothingness coveted this Something, wishing for more like it within itself, its only thought to preserve this Something.

From Chaos was born more Somethings, and soon came about the first Universe, a thing which - like the Nothingness - spanned space and time, and encompassed lesser things within it.

And thus, came the first Gods...

 

- First Awakening, Third Epitaph, The Age of Gods - Lord As'lunas of the Court of King Alfred.

 

-----

 

Mellena smiled slightly as she headed for the door at a brisk pace, Alfred following along obediently. When it came to affairs of politics, Alfred was normally better at patience and talking things out. But Mellena, raised by a warmongering Lord - even though she was of the noblest dragon blood - knew that sometimes you had to show disobedience discipline in order for it to stop. When it came to acts of this level of savagery, it was no surprise that Mellena's first response was to be brutal and efficient.

As Alfred walked alongside Mellena - who now walked with her signature "I shall halt for nothing" pose which even the court knew - he began to imagine different scenarios and how to go about this battle. He was more concerned for Mellena's safety but knew very well she could handle herself. Magically, she was unmatched. Even the greatest human archmages had trained under Mellena's watchful eye, though they still used magic in a very haphazard way. No one could use it like the Del Vrin, who were born with it, and who wielded it without even needing to chant.

Female dragonkin had always been experts at the magical arts, but those of the pureblood Ulsar clans (notably, the Del Vrin, among others) had always been a bit more skilled, simply because of their attuned nature to all elements and things. To Mellena, as one of them, magic came as simple as breathing or eating. It was something that happened naturally. As such, her mana pool had been coveted when she was younger, and many men had come to take her hand in marriage. Thankfully, the young Mellena had been a hard one to impress. But still, no amount of magic had saved the Del Vrin from the sheer horde of Dragonkin (wielding one of the ancient relics, no less!) that had come upon them during the massacre.

"Since Rasul is with us, using the Roc for travel is impossible." Mellena sighed. "I suppose personal flight and travel is all we can use."

She held out a hand, waving it.

"I'd use teleportation, but my husband loves to fly..." she sighed.

"I suppose we can do it this once, since Rasul is with us.." Alfred began.

Mellena brightened up, grinning. She immediately waved her hand again, this time easily tearing a hole in space time. She pointed to it with a bit of flair.

"This should take us to the borders of Zulfiqar, if everything is correct." she crossed her arms proudly. "I haven't been able to use this in a while, save to move about the castle quickly. My husband doesn't enjoy teleportation much. Says it doesn't let him enjoy the scenery."

"But it doesn't!" Alfred protested. "You just move from one location to the other and never see the in-between!"

"True.." Mellenah admitted. "Well, we have our preferences, of course."

Edited February 4, 2015 by Thaelasan

[Neutual Demon]

Rasul walked a step behind the pair as they left the Vaults, the door shutting quietly behind them. He couldn't help but be amused as to how differently the two flying lizard moved. Mellena strode with determined purpose, much like a cat. She walked gracefully, silently, but had her claws ready to dig into the flesh of a foe if they were stupid enough to show their face. Alfred's stance was more passive despite his large size. He always carried an air of calm and collectiveness that seemed to follow him even in dire situations. How in the world did the fiery Mellena get hooked up with such a peaceful ass such as Alfred was beyond the Ifrit. But he had to admit- their interactions when Mellena was ready to gut someone was hilarious.

The humor fell away when the woman mentioned the Roc- he suppress a scowl at the thought of the large feather duster. The pair argued over flying versus teleporting, to which Rasul once again suppressed his feelings- this time a sigh.

"I can use magic too, you know," he grumbled, but stepped towards the portal either way. Sometimes he felt that both Mellena and Alfred forgot about that fact. It was understandable, though, as the only time he ever used it was when he wasn't in sight of other Djinn. He learned a long time ago that Djinn tended to get a bit... agitated... when they found out another Djinn learned how to access and use the long forgotten arts. They were more than disagreeable when they found out he, an Ifrit, learned and practiced it.

"You two lizards better not argue too long, or I'll leave you behind," Rasul said, before stepping through the portal without looking at either of them. There were more important things to worry about than the preferences between flying and portals.

[Thaelasan]

...forth, he came, He with Name Unutterable, whose very title held the power of the cosmos and all order... and, lo, behind him came those who followed - his first son, wise Gandoa; the Master of the Forge, mighty Baldor; the beloved wife, radiant Winasi; the great Sun, shining Radon - later to become the twin of Nador.

The Earth they stepped upon was barren, just created. He with Name Unutterable saw this world, and forged it with help of Baldor, birthing it from living stone and cosmic force. Yet, though air blew. Yet, though trees bloomed. Yet, though earth was solid... life... was not there.

Life had not yet begun. Though trees thrived, true life did not exist.

They gazed, and walked, upon this fertile ground - this new planet, this new place of existence.

And they decided they would craft life from it themselves - new life... from this barren land.

Thus.. began the Age of Gods...

 

--------

 

Alfred entered the portal reluctantly, following Mellena and Rasul. Upon exiting, the trio found themselves outside Zulfiqar's massive, sandstone and obsidian walls, the wind blowing strongly around them.

"A sandstorm?" Alfred pondered. "I thought the Jann sensed those and sent warning beforehand... At least, normally they did for visitors.."

"Perhaps they would have... if it hadn't been for their attention being drawn to a wounded man." Mellena smiled. "After all, people being poisoned sort of trumps natural disasters in the average mindset."

"Oh. Right..." Alfred admitted.

"Don't feel poorly." Mellena patted his back lovingly. "It shouldn't matter much. We'll be staying on the roads. If I recall, the djinn made barriers along those... They're still operational, right, Rasul?"

[Neutual Demon]

The wind whipped sand against Rasul's flesh as he stepped out onto the other side of the portal. He let out an exasperated sigh as he moved away for Mellena and Alfred to come after him. He lived in the desert longer than he had been ruler, and sandstorms were the fact of life. It had become less of a danger and more of a nuisance to him. Alfred had to mention it when he followed after Mellena through the portal, giving he and his wife something else to yammer about.

The smaller flying lizard turned her attention to the Djinn, asking about the barriers on the roads. "Most do," he grunted. "The wars and years of neglect have caused a good portion of them to fall into disrepair, but I've worked to restoring them. The ones we need to take are operational. There's one over there," he pointed through the blowing sand and towards the slight shimmer of magic off towards their left. He headed towards it, not needing to gesture to the other two if they wished to follow. If they wanted to get out of the sand, they would.

Passing through the barrier was like walking opening a door to an ice box. He gritted his teeth at the cool feeling, but it faded as soon as his feet were planted in the middle of the roadway. He brushed a hand over his hair lazily, sand sprinkling down to his shoulders and onto the ground. Good enough, he mused before turning to look over his shoulder to see if the other two had caught up.

[Thaelasan]

The deserts surrounding Zulfiqar have long been target of speculation and research, as well as tireless excavation to find the treasures buried beneath.

Since this land has been preserved (according to most texts) since the Age of Immortals, which is quite fascinating, considering the changes that happened to most of the other countries over the centuries that this one was kept so solid, it possesses unimaginable amounts of lore. It's no secret, however, that graverobbers and treasure hunters have pilfered countless historical artifacts from the land without recording or cataloging their finds, which has made it increasingly difficult to properly write lore concerning the land in its entirety. In fact, it was one of these graverobbers that helped translate the language depicted upon the original Redstone Monolith, the strange, iron tablet that had been buried with the Djinn King Asmondas roughly 1700 years prior to its discovery. Over 21 different spells had been buried with him, depicted in their original tongue, chiseled into the iron with living Ifrit flame, each taking up roughly 3x3 foot spaces on the surface of the monolith, which had been measured at 100 feet long and 81 feet wide. The most peculiar part of the stone - and yes, I know I'm going on a tangent here - was the fact that the square roots of 100 and 81 (10 and 9 respectively) were the ages of his beloved children upon his death. Sadly, his children never came to power, as this was right before the rebellion that caused the Marid ruler to take the throne at the beginning of the Age of Myth, following the Furious Storm.

It was estimated that the Furious Storm may have ruined over 1,327 precious texts stored in the Royal Zulfiqarian Archives, including 77 of the ruler diaries of previous kings, 120 works of the famous Jann writer Nasumoris, 500 recovered books of the dead from the tombs of various enshrined Djinn kings (this was one of the worst losses).... the things that were taken can never be truly replaced.

Hence why the excavation of the Zulfiqarian Desert - also known as the Red Desert, the Desert of Lies, the Illusionary Sea, the White Hell, and the Great Expanse - is so fundamentally important to the recovery of history from the Lost Ages. Even the current Ifrit King - Rasul, at the time of this writing - knows of the importance of its treasures, and has stored countless artifacts, relics, and texts within his mighty vault in his palace, forbidding anyone to enter save for a select few - myself included. I feel blessed to be able to walk among those treasures, that will not see the light of the layman for many centuries, until they have been properly researched and restored, prepared to be on display for those interested in them.

But I digress - there are several things that make the Red Desert so strange and peculiar, different from every other desert around the continent. For one, why it's red - Iron. Great deposits of iron beneath the sand, untapped by many, lay scattered haphazardly around the entire country's length. In lore, it is said its the remnants of a weapon shattered by Gandoa when he discovered Baldor's treachery with Winasi - but though I am a religious man, that doesn't make sense (mainly timeline-wise). Since the desert has existed with this iron since before the end of the Age of Immortals, when the incident occurred, it's impossible for that to have been the cause. Still, though iron is a common element, the sheer density and amount of iron have made Zulfiqar a trading depot for centuries, allowing it to prosper as the Red City.

Of course, that's not the only export from Zulfiqar's walls, but to the mortal races - especially men - iron is crucial. However, Rasul has limited the amount dug, claiming that - verbatim - "those fools keep diggin' up way too much of it and ruining good treasure spots. They broke half the artifacts from Andon's tomb when the idiots broke through the wall - AND KEPT DIGGING! I was MIND-BLOWN. So yeah, you guys don't get to dig anymore until the area around those deposits is THOROUGHLY checked. Yeah yeah. Get as angry as you want. Jeez. You'll thank me one day."

It is due to Rasul's foresight that over 1000 artifacts have been found and safely recovered from around iron deposits, hidden in tombs built into the deposits themselves. What purpose this served is still unknown, but most likely it was religious in some way, since the iron was once believed to be from a god.

But it is due to the iron that the sandstorms of Zulfiqar were so dangerous before the construction of the Barriers. The iron quarries and digging had exposed great holes of iron, which hadn't been properly excavated, and thus had produced iron shavings - millions of them. They were now kicked up by the wind and mixed with the sandstorms, making them even more dangerous, which led to the destruction caused by the Furious Storm. Thankfully, the electrical conduits erected by the Jann had attracted many of the iron fragments years ago, but the danger is still quite present. One reason that Zulfiqar has stood for so long was because of these very storms. By simply deactivating the Barriers, the Djinn Kings made it impossible for anyone to get to the city..

Because no man has ever crossed the desert without the Barriers. There are said to mirages, animals larger than any seen before, and demons left from the Age of War - their very lives constructed to kill, and nothing else. Even I would be very hard-pressed to go through there without some form of defense.

But the other thing that makes the Red Desert so peculiar is the Song. It's said, by very many, even the Djinn, that when the hum of the barriers is ignored, and the wind is quiet, there is a beautiful, melodious song echoing throughout the dunes of the desert. No one knows of the source, though some have speculated it's the wind running through the tombs, or the barriers' malfunctioning every so often. But I have more faith in Djinn construction, as even my wife, Mellena, has stated that the magical powers of the Barrier are superior to any constructed by any other race, and they've lasted for millenia. Others say the Song is that of the wife of the first emperor, Vin'Talor, who was killed in the Age of War. Whatever the truth of the matter, the Song exists, and it still rings...

And joins the rest of the mysteries of this... Red Desert.

 

- King Alfred Ralden, The Mysteries of Our World.

 

-----

 

Alfred began to walk along the road, his hand clasped in Mellena's firmly. Even after stepping through the barrier, the sound of the wind was audible, and constant. It blew with ferocity, threatening to tear the flesh off the unsuspecting. He cringed at the thought.

Flying over it was simple. At a certain altitude, the sands were manageable, and the wind only whipped every so often. But at this altitude, walking quietly, the storm seemed all encompassing... and this one seemed a bit more ferocious than usual, and sudden. Alfred frowned in thought as he tried to consider the meaning of the storm, but failed to find any purpose other than a natural disaster - or perhaps an omen to their current mission.

He pulled his clothes tighter about him out of habit, though the wind barely touched them in here, if at all. He then returned his hand to Mellena's, only to see her standing still, her hand trembling.

"Mellena?" Alfred asked, concerned. She could only shake slightly, nervous.

"It's nothing. I'm sure it's nothing." she said, sounding like it was FAR from nothing. But Alfred left it at that. He would not press the matter further. He trusted her more than that.

But soon, even he could feel that something was dreadfully wrong. The road they were on was normally bustling with people, bringing goods to and from Zulfiqar each day in a great cycle. Only yesterday had Alfred flown over and seen them from the skies, as usual, speaking to each other and trading along the road. In fact, there were still a few stalls erected along the side of the road, on the larger areas... as if.. they had only recently been vacated..

Alfred's eyes became concerned. Mellena gripped his hand more tightly as the two began to wonder what was amiss. Had it been the sudden storm? Perhaps they had fled, seeing that this one was more brutal than usual, and headed back to their homes for the day? After all, no one would want to trade in this sort of weather, even if they were protected from it..

No, that was silly. There would still be some merchants. It would be hard to turn down some of them from the prospect of gold, as long as their lives weren't really at stake... So what could have done this?

"You seek the stones?"

Alfred turned quickly, blade drawn, hand before Mellena.

Behind them stood a cloaked figure, wearing what appeared to be the normal desert attire of a merchant or traveler to Zulfiqar. Even though the Barriers protected against the wind, the sun was still a problem, and the road was not short in the slightest. But it wasn't the man's clothes that caught attention, though they seemed to be worn strangely.

It was his face, beaked, like that of a crow, black feathers covering his face. It took Alfred a moment to realize it was simply a mask, but the very presence of it unnerved him.

"The stones? You mean the tablets?" Alfred asked innocently, confused. He still had his blade drawn. For some reason, this man's presence was dark and ominous.

"You seek that which should not be discovered." the being said, unmoving. "Some things should be left buried beneath the sands. Yet you beings pry and pry and are never concerned for the consequences of your actions."

"Is curiosity not a trait of man?" Alfred asked. Mellena still had not spoken, her eyes wide.

"It is this very curiosity that leads you down a dark road, King Alfred Ralden." the man responded, his voice seeming to come not from him, but from the wind. "The curiosity of man is a sin which leads to the downfalls of many for the treasures of the few. A graverobber takes away the priceless relics of a great country somewhere now, and yet his actions will not harm him, but those who truly respect those artifacts. A man sneaks into another man's home to see his belongings, but his theft will only harm the victim unless the man is caught. A knife will be plunged into another person's heart, this night, for the sake of seeing what the victim owns upon his person. This is fact."

"I think you're confusing curiosity with greed, masked one. Avarice." Alfred replied, looking for any sign of an offensive movement.

"Are the two so different? Curiosity leads to greed, sooner or later, and it is because of greed that curiosity was born. They are father and son, mother and daughter, husband and wife, in the sense that from them is born nothing but chaos and woe. But I do respect you, Ralden, for understanding this, and yet still seeking that which you lost."

"Are you the one who attacked my messengers?"

"No." the man replied flatly. "I am not affiliated with those who took from you that which you've lost. But I am here to warn you that it is best that you let them keep them, and forget about them. Retrieve your men, and only that, but do not pursue the stones. It is better that they are lost to the ages, for all involved. That is all I will say."

"Then what do the stones say? If you sate my curiosity, then I will heed your words." Alfred offered.

"Things which should be lost to the ages." he repeated. "Do you comply?"

"No." Alfred responded. "Sadly, I do not heed the words of those who do not introduce themselves."

"Wise.. yet foolish." the man sighed. Alfred heard a crack from above him. It sounded like glass fracturing. Instinctively, he raised his free hand to his head...

But felt no shards puncturing flesh, no serration upon his clothes. When he lowered his arms, grit fell from them upon the ground, lost in the sand already there.

Immediately, Alfred turned to look at the man again, his eyes wide.

"You wouldn't.." he began. "What the hell do you think you're planning!?"

"As I stated, some things are better buried... including those too curious to think clearly.. who will end up causing nothing but pain for those around them... However... Should fate see fit to allow you to live... Seek the one who Sings... Seek her before you decide to find these stones of yours... Perhaps then you will leave this all alone."

Alfred heard further cracking. Irritated, he ran forward to grab the man, tackling him to the ground. He tore the mask from the face....

There was nothing there. He searched the clothing for any sign of life. Confused, he jumped slightly when Mellena laid a hand upon his shoulder.

"You will not... find anything." she said, obviously shaken.

"Why not?"

"Because he did not.. and does not... exist on this plane of existence." Mellena responded, helping him up. "None of his kind do.... And for them to speak to us.."

"Mellena. What the hell... I mean.. what are you talking about?" Alfred asked.

"The Carrion.." Mellena began, but her voice was drowned out by the sudden howling of wind as the sound of glass shattering announced the breaking of something vitally important.

"The Barrier!" Alfred yelled, surprised. "The Barrier is breaking!"

"Sometimes, honey, saying the obvious isn't the greatest choice!" Mellena yelled over the wind as sand began to pour into the hole in the ceiling. Further cracks began to spread down the length of the road, sand bearing down upon them, struggling to break through.

"BURY.... BURY EVERYTHING.... AZ'SAKAL MOHDAN.."

"Who's speaking Ifritian!?" Alfred said, now utterly lost. "Is that.. is that the sand itsel-"

Suddenly, the ground beneath him seemed to flip as the sand below was now rising to meet the sand from the skies.

"ALFRED!" Mellena called as she reached desperately for his hand. He clasped it as the two of them slid across the sand, falling off of it as the being emerged from the grit.

A great head, not unlike that of a Djinn male, forged entirely of loose sand and stone, its eyes red iron. Teeth forged of iron shaving gritted at them as the beast stared the trio down.

"WHAT ON EARTH IS THAT?!"

"A wraith! But it's one that no being could summon on this plane!" Mellena replied, getting to her feet quickly. "And one we DO NOT want to face!"

"BURY.... BURY EVERYTHING...." the beast roared, its voice as loud as the storm itself. "BE ENTOMBED WITHIN... LIVING SAND..."

"No thank you!" Alfred replied hastily as he swung his sword at it. The metal went through the sand, cutting a hole across it. But more sand replaced the gap, the magic of the blade not enough to destroy the wraith's being.

The sand raged around them as the barriers cracked even more, the shoulders of the beast rising from the ground, shattering the Barrier as it emerged. Soon, the chest and arms of a monolithic beast, forged of iron and sand, stared the trio down with eyes of fiery, molten iron rock.

"BE WELCOMED... INTO THE EMBRACE.. OF THE SANDS..." the beast roared, as it began to move towards them quickly, hands extended.

Alfred immediately broke into a run, grabbing Mellena's hand and pulling her away just as the beast's massive arm swung where she had been. Below them, now, the sand swirled into a vortex down the road, living, thriving, trying to slow them.

"Remember when you said it would be FINE?!" Mellena asked angrily as the two began to run.

"I'm not infallible!" Alfred replied. "You should know this by now!"

"You're right! It's why I married you!" she laughed, grasping onto his shoulders as the two began to fly down the path as fast as they could, ignoring the sand which now began to fall from the skies and tear into the Barrier itself.

Edited February 5, 2015 by Thaelasan

[Neutual Demon]

Inside of the barrier was…wrong. Rasul’s fiery eyes flickered about him as Alfred and Mellena stepped through, the skin on the back of his neck prickling. It was too quiet, minus the wind, with not a soul in sight. He did not close off the barrier, even with the attack on Alfred’s men, and news didn’t travel THAT fast. His eyes narrowed, squaring his shoulders as he scanned the area for a threat, for the cause as to why there was no one around because it certainly wasn’t the weather that did it.

A voice sounded behind them, Rasul hearing Alfred spin about with a scraping of metal as he unsheathed his blade. The Ifrit merely turned slowly, taking in the situation as the flying lizard lord confronted the bird-masked being. The… being… as he was certain it wasn’t a person, not with how its words flowed over them like ice, had a presence about it that put the fire Djinn immediately on edge. He gritted his teeth, the fingers at his sides curling slightly, feeling the soft hum of magic jump from fingertip to fingertip in small arcs as a precaution in case things went south very fast. He usually didn’t expose his use of magic, even during his assassination attempts, but here it seemed that it would be the best choice of attack and defense. There was just something… off… about the being that made Rasul throw aside his caution on his use of magic.

The being spoke of the large hunks of carved stone they had uncovered and Alfred lost, its words rolling off as a warning to not pry further into the topic. The dragon-hided idiot naturally countered, and the two fell into a small debate over the subject, neither budging from their goal, until the being basically told Alfred what Rasul thought of the scaly man before he felt the barrier crack. It was the funny thing about being the only one honed in on the natural magic of the area that Rasul could both see and feel it when it was created or broken. It helped even more so when he was the one who rebuilt this section of the barrier. It felt like someone sunk their nails into his back and drug them straight down as the magical bindings began to crack and dissipate into the surrounding area.

Rasul didn’t notice how Alfred tackled the being and found nothing of its presence, his eyes fixated on the barrier around them as it cracked and shattered like dropped glass, the fragments of magic flickered away into the environment, letting wind and sand buffet the previous sheltered area. The sand beneath them heaved and shifted, rising up to meet the blowing sand and iron above. Rasul took two steps back to the safety of unmoving sand while the other two had broken away when the sand attempted to take Alfred with it, his wife pulling him to safety.

The sand twisted and condensed, forming a monstrous being of iron and stone particles, gnashing teeth of metal shavings at them. It spoke, the Ifritian language roaring from its mouth, demanding to bury, to consume everything in its sands. Alfred attempted to slash at it, but it failed miserably, and in any other situation Rasul would’ve snorted at his vain attempt. Yet now he didn’t feel humor or annoyance. He felt hot, unadulterated rage.

Alfred and Mellena made a break for it, but Rasul remained where he stood, unaffected by the blowing wind. ”Listen here, you little piece of uncultured fodder, he snarled out, not caring that he slipped into his native tongue. He didn’t have to feel to know that the air around him was starting to increase in temperature, his core heat boiling as smoke left with each breath. Sand that buffeted his skin blew away as small fragments of glass, and that was if they survived the crackling gold of raw magic that he seemed to have forgotten to reign in, but at the point there were more things to worry about. He could feel the hairs on his head rising, the static from the moving sand creating small sparks as the electricity rippled across his flesh, but he did not care, his eyes blazing unnaturally bright in his fury.

”I don’t give two flying fricks where in the blazing fires you came from or what you are, but you sit your punk ass down and listen to me, and listen to me good. I don’t care that you want to spread a little sand around, frack, there’s tens upon thousands of metric tons of that shnact laying around, but this here is my territory, you hear me? MINE. Everything here is under my domain, my protection, and as soon as you broke your sorry ass through my borders, you have become a trespasser and a menace. I was born from the sands, I was raised by the sands I will fracking DIE in the sands, but I’ve seen scarier beasts than you and I have DESTROYED them, so I will not be COWED by your pathetic attempts. I will say this, and I will say this once: get your fricken ass OUT OF MY TERRITORY OR I WILL DO IT MYSELF!”

His roar echoed in the raging sands and wind, unmuffled by the bright crackling gold of his magic and the hissing of heat that poured off him, causing the metallic flakes and sand to melt when they brushed by him. How dare this being come unto his territory and think it could take over. If it wasn’t going to heed his warning and haul its large ass out into the wild sands where it couldn’t bother anyone else, he was going to show it exactly how he survived living out in the desert for most of his life.

No one touched his things. No one.

 

[Thaelasan]

Unlike most races, Djinn do not simply... die. Their existences do not end finitely in most cases, unless their core is destroyed. The core of a Djinn is sacred, and hard to break. With it, a Djinn may be restored to life, like a phoenix, even if their body is horribly maimed - hence why they can bicker and fight, break arms, and legs. Their bodies are not really bodies at all, but shells formed of the element they were born from.

However, if the core is destroyed, a Djinn's death is certain. Hence, many of the old kings of the Djinn were normally buried as pieces of their cores, to be preserved. Entombment of a Djinn is quite a fascinating process - the pieces of the cores are used to build murals dictating their triumphs, made entirely of the core's materials, symbolizing their souls. This is why if a tomb is harmed or some of these shards are stolen, a lot of the history is lost. But the shards can be sold for a great deal, and collecting these shards is the true goal of any person seeking to find the truth behind a certain Djinn King or Queen. Many of these murals have been safely restored or moved from their tombs and placed within key vaults in Zulfiqar. However, I will not disclose their locations here.

But, the most fascinating part of a Djinn ruler's death is the fact that their soldiers' fragments were buried with them, forever tied to them, to do their duties in the afterlife. Many tombs are guarded by wraiths born of the souls of guards, their cores' powers lingering on long after their deaths, their desire to protect their lord their only goal.

 

- King Alfred Ralden, Research Notes on the Djinn.

 

----

 

For a long while, there was nothing but silence as the wraith suddenly slowed to a halt, seemingly stopped by Rasul's speech and determination. However, soon, the wraith began to move again, its entire visible body shifting into a form of supplication. It bowed its head, hands low, eyes closed.

"MY... KING..." it seethed, the words holding far more meaning than anything else. "ASMONDAS... HAS RETURNED.... THE SANDS... MAY REST..."

The winds around them began to dull as the great beast lowered slightly, arms placed upon the ground.

"MY KING...... IT COULD... NOT BE CONTAINED... ONLY BURIED..." the wraith said, as though despondent. "THOUGH YOUR CREED... WAS FOR IT TO BE LOST... THE WINDS... WILL UNCOVER IT SOON.... WE BURY AND BURY IT... BUT IT WILL BE FOUND... VERY SOON... WE COULD NOT STOP IT..."

It seemed frustrated with itself. Now, with a good glance, it seemed to be a soldier more than an unintelligent beast of sand. Alfred rubbed his chin, curious.

"He thinks you're... Asmondas? Well I suppose.. since you DO look like him..." he muttered. "But why..."

"YOUR ORDERS... WE HAVE FAILED YOU... WE COULD NOT KEEP IT BURIED FOREVER... SOON IT WILL BE UNLEASHED.... AFTER ALL WE HAVE DONE... WE HAVE FAILED..." the creature seemed to actually be moping.

[Neutual Demon]

His speech had slowed the wild sands, the grinding, blowing wind pausing into a long silent moment as the giant being halted, almost contemplating on the Ifrit's words. Then it jerked back into motion, the mass of sand and iron grit condensing as it lowered itself and spoke once more, greeting the Djinn as king and... something about some bloke named Asmondas.

Rasul quirked an eyebrow, although his lips pulled into a scowl. He didn't know who this Asmondas was, but it certainly wasn't him. Still, if it was going to make this giant ball of loose sediments stop burying and destroying his work, then the Ifrit was going to grudgingly let the error pass. He wasn't going to let the chance of offending the creature and having it go on a warpath all over again just because he wanted to convince the no-brained idiot that he wasn't this... Asmondas.

"Things have been a bit hectic as of late," Rasul began, feeling the magic fading from their arcs, but the air around him was still incredibly stifling. "Remind me what I thought it was a good idea to bury. And don't do that pouting thing! You're a giant ass monstrosity from blazing fires know where. You look utterly ridiculous." The Ifrit had moved closer to the being, a clawed hand snapping out to swat at the sandy being much like one would swat at a small animal for doing something it wasn't supposed to.

"I'm sure you did your fricken best, but I think we can take it from here. Maybe whatever has been buried needs to be dealt with with a more permanent solution rather than just fracking burying it and hopes it goes away." He rolled his eyes as he spoke. Really, whoever this Asmondas guy was, he had certainly been an idiot. Buried things are always found, even if it was five minutes or five centuries from when it had originally been covered. Obviously if it was something that needed big giant balls of grit to keep it hidden, it was something of great importance or extremely dangerous.

"If you can show me and these scaly weirdos behind me wherever was thought to be a good idea to bury whatever it was is at, we can deal with it accordingly. Unless it's not as important as that bird-masked basket case's demand to find the Singer or the Song or whatever hell that freakishly feeling being was talking about, then we should probably do that first since apparently he was pretty demented on us finding...whatever it was." He blew out a sigh filled with smoke as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is getting utterly ridiculous," he muttered, not knowing that he switched out of Ifritian.