Loss

[Xyon_of_Calhoun]

This AR thread is intended to detail a little about Xyon's travels during his exit from Marn, working up to his return by the first of September.

The difficulty here is that his trip duration is gonna be into around 24 months, although i'll gloss over the mundane so i can focus on canon when i actually return. But obviously, in 2 months of my holiday, 2 years of game time won't have passed.

I'll throw in some shit about singularities or magical anomalies and let havoc commence. First post during my break at work tomorrow night, until then if anyone has any suggestions on how to bridge the time-gap then please, post them here.

[Xyon_of_Calhoun]

Miles from anywhere, the Xenetian wept.

Midnight broke on the third day. Through patched clouds the moon stroked softly at the harsh, barren terrain all around, casting an odd, silver-white relief map of the surroundings. His fire crackled, its soft amber flickering playing lazily out on the ruined stone constructs around his tired position.

Memory... the memory was the heaviest thing he carried, heavier than the shards of edged steel that had once been his weapon. No... no, that wasn't right. She had been his friend. Closer... symbiant... the word sounded odd in his mind, alone, with his own thoughts now his sole company. And yet... it was the right word to use.

Inohen's remains lay heavily on his consciousness, as well as his pack. Her dying actions, her final scream... just kept playing before his eyes as he watched, each time as helpless as the first time. He saw her shatter, after something strange had happened to his vision, to his mind... even now, he could feel the Danteri blood within him, pumping around his veins like white-hot poison. It's brilliant red taint had mingled with the blackness of his own blood to form, oddly, a spectacular blue, deeper in colour than he had ever seen before. It circled now, a dangerous intertwining of both types of fluid, both sides of the coin, in his body, fuelling bursts of extreme emotion, the most obvious immediate side-effect.

So obvious was it, and so consuming was his grief, he didn't notice anything else. No other thought but for Inohen entered his mind, nothing got through but pain, remorse, shock, and the relentless sensation of loss.

And Calhoun lay still miles away. As he bent back, laying down to sleep, the last Kaxis of the city fell into a deep, troubled slumber, populated heavily with nightmares of his weapon, his bonded honour guard, and the blade that was to restore Calhoun to his kind.

He woke before the sun rose, shouldered his pack, and set off.

Day followed. Night came. Day followed. Night came. The ceaseless rhythm of Pal Tahrenor rolled by, never breaking, as even he lost count of the days. Thirty, sixty, one hundred... It could be any. Still onward he marched, spurred on by his own need, by his desire to find home, to bury his friend.

And as he walked, the world changed. And as he walked, the time flowed. And as he walked... he awoke.

Midnight on the two hundredth and thirty seventh day. He awoke, not knowing this. The words from the dream so fresh, they still ran through his mind, and fell from his mouth with sheer weight.

The two halves are whole. The chain is once again made.

Thou art no longer Kaxis of the city of Calhoun. Thou hast now a bigger part to play. I name thee, creature, as thy god:

Thou art Xyon Xantar. Leader now of the sunken chalice, the holder of the blessed flame of Calhoun, ruler of thy kind, and both halves therin.

I title thee Eithad. Lord and King of all thy kind... for thou art now whole. Thou art no longer Xenetian. Thou art Xenteri.

Awake, my son.

The Xenteri shuddered, splashed some cold water into his face, and tried not to think too much about it. The smoke on the horizon told him Calhoun was close.

It would hold the answer.