Remusiat Town Square

[Torscha]

Trying to contain his shudder as the woman vanished from sight, Torscha turned to Céyehne. "Aye, you're right about the blasting bit, although we could say that she attacked you while we were in the alley – although that would raise questions as to what we were doing in such a place; questions that, if unsatisfactorily answered, might besmirch your good name, especially in the company of a scoundrel like myself." He pursed his lips pensively, taking a long drag on his pipe.

His eyes widened as he noticed the guard making his way purposefully towards them. Then something clicked in his mind. Talking rapidly, he turned to Céyehne and said, "I have it. Back me up on this: a good story isn't as important as a convincing delivery and an attractive accomplice.

"I'm going to tell him we followed the woman from the Beard because she asked about the man Maryn was looking for, who we believe to be connected with an attack on one of Maryn's girls. She lashed out when she realised that her cover had been blown, and left, possibly to seek out her partner. We plant the seed of suspicion that wherever that big barbarian is to be found, there will be found our elusive mage as well, and then we point him after that oaf. So our girl gets off the hook, and if the guard has any competence at all, Maryn gets her man!

"No point equivocating now. Let's see what he has to say. Back me up on this, Céyehne: I need you."

[Khel]

Jami the Harbor Guard

Jami watched as the dark-haired man puffed idly on his pipe. He seemed calm enough, and the guard’s pace slowed. Perhaps he didn’t want to question him after all? Looking around for a moment, Jami realized he’d stopped altogether. Although the couple stood at the mouth of an alley, there were so many of those within the city it was rather commonplace. Nothing unusual other than their appearance at the crime scene would set them apart from any other civilian. Maybe he was overreacting.

However, fear and rage bubbled within him at the idea of magic, magic used on the common people of Remusiat and roaming free throughout it. Heaving a sigh, he marched right up to the couple. The man, with dark features, was not Remusian but not suspicious. He seemed as inconspicuous as anyone else. In fact, the air about him was more at ease than a lot of the other guards; even some of the shoppers out on this chilly afternoon. He shifted his gaze from the man to his companion.

He was surprised he hadn’t noticed her beauty before. She was pale, very pale, with snowy hair and full lips. He imagined beneath that robe was a body of youth he could not imagine. Clearing his mind, Jami knew he could not be lead astray by another woman today. Setting his face, he stood before them, spear and shield in hand and held aloft as if he were standing at his post.

Sharply he said, “You two were in the Boar’s Beard when I passed through not an hour ago. Tell me, did you see a woman, about yea high, “ he held up his hand to indicate her height, “and bald. I’m sure you’d remember her, and it’s most important you provide me with any information about her you can.” He was businesslike, not overly friendly, but not unappealing. Surely they’d answer truthfully.

[Céyehne]

Céyehne watched Torscha’s reaction to the mage woman and was taken aback as he suddenly became businesslike. His mind worked quickly, and he cooked up a believable story even as the guard approached them. Righ’ on time. she thought smugly, watching the guard hesitate. He seemed serious enough, but not threatening. Was he as frightened and stern about this as the three of them were imagining? Did that even matter? Not really.

She really had to admit that Torscha’s plan was a good one. Connecting the mage woman with that man who’d harmed the barmaid? Brilliant. And to catch that man, one who would dare rough up a woman, was much more important to Céyehne then catching the woman who’d only defended herself—much as the Kar-ii would do herself if it meant assuring her own safety. When the guard asked for information about the mage, the dancer acted as nonchalant as if he’d asked them to spare a coat. Smiling at him, full lips in a wide grin, she said, ”Aye, we b’ seein’ her at t’ Beard. She b’ askin’ ‘bout that man… t’ big one, eh.. ye know his name?” She nudged Torscha gently, genuinely wondering if he did know the man’s name.

Instead of waiting for an immediate reply though, the Darkpriest thought she’d play up the story a little more. If Maryn wanted him caught, she was more than happy to help out. ”He b’ big an’ a bit frighten’n, a man ‘oo woul’ hurt a woman like that..” she shook her head a bit forlornly, her white locks waving across her face, ”If t’ woman want’d somethin’ from him, she can’t b’ doin’ no good..” Xazure eyes took on a worried expression. She looked to Torscha for elaboration and surely a show she could admire. Céyehne was a dancer, not a storyteller nor an actor. However, she was also a lovely victim.

[Torscha]

Torscha waves his pipe in an airy fashion, lips curling into an appreciative smile as his partner spun her part of the tale admirably. And now it's my turn. "I'm afraid I never found out that man's name, not being in the habit of associating with felons.

"As my companion was saying, we saw the woman you inquire after at the tavern while she was in turn inquiring after a man who had just left. A great big bear of a man, too, with a sword that could split you or I like logs for the fire! I believe the tavern-keeper, Maryn, was at the moment looking for that same man, as she suspected him of assaulting and seriously injuring one of her girls.

"When the landlady told this woman that the man she was looking for had committed such an act and was probably being hunted, the bald woman reacted badly, attacking two of the men in the taproom with some sort of magical force – God, that gives me the shivers!" At least, Torscha did not have to feign distaste: the memory of the sight of two men sprawled on the floor, felled by sorcery, was enough to make him shudder.

Mastering himself through a visible execise of effort, he continued, "A little worried and suspicious, we followed the woman here to the square, where she must have been asking a few others about the man's whereabouts. She was pointed to the south, probably to the gate, methinks, as her felonious comrade must surely be trying to leave the city as soon as possible.

"If I were you, and I wanted to apprehend said woman, I'd head south as quickly as I could with all the resources I could muster. A mage is bad enough ; a mage with a strong swordsman as her partner could prove tricky indeed. I'd apprehend both of them before they could link up and have them in chains before they got out of the city." He clapped the guardsman on the shoulder and shook his head. "I don't envy you your task, but admire that you're so committed to your duty! You'd probably best be going to get your watch captain so he can organise a chase, and quickly, too!"

[Khel]

Jami the Harbor Guard

Jami listened intently. First the pretty woman spoke, her voice soft and seemingly concerned. So they knew who he was asking for! This could be the answer, he could have that disgusting mage locked away or worse to the approval and praise of the Remusian citizens and his commanding officer. He really hated to admit it, but Jami knew he was in this just as much for his own gain as to catch the mage woman. He would be doing the city a service, but more so earning respect--something he so rarely experienced from other guards and officers.

Another assailant? As he listened, the Remusian's head cocked a little to the side. The mage had a partner? And it sounded as if he was a swordsman. Could he be Remusian? Narrowing his eyes, brows knitted together, he listened more closely now. One who would injure a woman without second thought, yet had a woman as an accomplice.. this disturbed him as well. This dark man seemed to have quite a bit of information, a great memory! Not to mention, he seemed ready for action with a plan of his own. Jami puffed with pride at his ending comments. Int he same span, though, he wondered why this man was so forceful in his direction. This couple was so casual, although the man had shivered in distaste at one point, but they did not seem ruffled by what had happened.

Also, they were comfortable enough to follow her into the square. But.. perhaps they were good people who wanted justice just as much as he did. Brushing worry from his mind, he said in a businesslike tone "South, you say? Perhaps fleeing the city." He thought for a moment. If they had fled into the wastes, they'd surely be taken by the elements and were no longer of concern. On the other hand, a mage and swordsman partnership had to be accompanied by some brains. They would not go empty handed into the wastes. Glancing around, Jami opened his mouth to ask something more. Perhaps his suspicions of these two were rising, but he was so intent on his task and making some headway that all he uttered was "Thank you."

Jami headed West first. Towards the Western gate. From there he would circle the city South along the wall. If he did not catch any signs or additional clues to the criminal's whereabouts, he would stop in at the army headquarters and request help in the urgent matter. Now, though, he had another suspect to be looking after, and if that he was pleased. As he pressed through the crowds his eyes searched tirelessly.

[Torscha]

Torscha watched the guard go with narrowed eyes. The man had not swallowed the tale with the readiness the storyteller had expected. I must, he thought ruefully, be getting rusty.

Disguising the miniscule movements of his lips with his pipestem, which he raised, he murmured to Céyehne, sotto voce, "What do you think? Is it safe to get her out of hiding? We'll need somewhere to take her, somewhere she hasn't been seen yet. Definitely not the Beard, although I'm loath to leave my instrument behind. And those three brothers, as well – I'm sure once they get their heads out of their asses they'll be able to provide us with a colourful story or two, if not more. And I'm worried about young Ruil: he might think being knighted makes him invincible, but that older one'll eat him alive if he even looks at him funny.

"First things first, though." Torscha's eyes scan the square, lighting again on the tavern they had passed earlier. "I wonder," he mused, "if the three of us can take a room at that tavern. If it's just you and me, and she follows us unseen, I don't suppose anyone will remark on a couple taking a room at an inn. That is, if you don't find the idea too presumptuous on my part," he added hastily, colour rising to his cheeks. "I mean that only as part of a ruse. Your virtue is ever safe with me."

[Céyehne]

She watched the guard go, shooting a worried glance at Torscha. It seemed too easy, yet he still seemed skeptical. He also hadn’t immediately marched south as she’d expected him to. The storyteller’s information had been flawless enough as far as she could tell. Small shoulders shrugged and blue eyes fixed on the dark orbs of her companion as he spoke again. His concern amused the woman; he wished to be everywhere at once. She did, however, think it would be good to get out of the biting wind as well as away from any eyes who would remember the three foreigners meeting together. She was still a bit skeptical of taking these chances simply to make acquaintances with this magess and ask her a few simple questions, but she would not voice her opinions in that matter.

Céyehne’s eyes lit up with amusement at Torscha’s last comment and she chuckled lightly, taking his hand again. ’’M’dear Torsch’, I b’ willin’ t’ put up any façade ye like.” She winked playfully at him then, enjoying the color that had arisen on his cheeks. It was good to see such a smooth, charming man flustered from time to time. She nodded then, turning to the alley. She had the urge to push the shadows away again, but she had the feeling that the mage woman had other means of hiding away.

Squeezing his hand and letting it drop, she placed a hand on his chest as if to say “stay put” and quickly stepped into the shadow of the alley. Her fingers twitched in constant movement and her lips moved in a silent formula as she called the shadows around her, covering her in darkness. She was, of course, still visible, but whoever sought her out would have to look very closely. The shadows clung to her tightly, dancing around her feet, and Céyehne moved further into the alley, hoping that Torscha had stayed behind and had not seen the sudden change in her coloration. There was no real reason for doing what she did, the buildings towering around her would have been enough cover to accomplish her goal. It was strange how the shadows seemed to call to her, however, and she yearned to use her will for even a moment.

It was a much simpler thing to call the darkness to her than to send it dancing about, and she only had to make a minimal effort to keep it around her. Hoping she’d moved far enough, the Darkpriest halted and murmured softly of their plans. She told the woman in low melodic tones which Inn to follow the couple to, and to wait a few minutes’ time before entering and following them to a room—they’d be sure she knew which one. She did not hesitate as she immediately let the shadows flee from her. They settled again back to their crevasses and corners within the alleyway.

A smug smile adorned her ginger lips as Céyehne exited the narrow passage and grabbed Torscha’s hand again. ”She b’ knowin’ t’ plan, an’ we better get t’ makin’ this act inconspicu’us, woul’ ye say? Torsch', I never b' worri'd 'bout me virtue.” Smiling at him, the dancer dragged the man southward towards the predestined Inn. She silently delighted in directing the man around—he most likely rarely had the experience. Although it was his idea, he probably hadn’t expected her to be the one to execute it. She let her snowy hair whip around her pale face as they jaunted away from the plaza, her hips swaying gracefully beneath her nor’sidion robe. The mage would follow; she had to have heard her there in the darkness.

[Azhira Styralias]

Indeed Azhira heard the white haired woman...but more than that, Azhira was astonished at the woman's magic? No, that was not quite right. Azhira herself was sheltered by the wind, as she was nigh invisible in the alley using her Hide spell. But this woman...

She was no wind mage. How did she manage to keep from being seen? Of course, to Azhira's trained eye, she could still see the woman blending into the shadows, but it was if the woman had become a shadow...her physical form was as the wind, yet instead of her wind oinia being affected, it was instead as if the shadows enveloped her, hiding her.

Azhira had never seen such power in all her years. Was the woman a mage of some power that she had never heard of? How could one call upon the shadows to hide? Azhira, in her experience as a thief, often relied upon the shadows for cover, but never to actually manipulate them as this woman seemingly did.

Upon hearing the woman's instructions, Azhira watched the two move away from the alley. The mage waited for a moment before breaking the spell hiding her. She felt the wind ounia shift and she saw her body once again reappear. The chill breeze gave her comfort and she kept her focus upon the air around her at all times. However, she was beginning to tire. After her trip and having used her magic three times today, she needed rest. She could not stand to hide herself again for much more than a few minutes. Hopefully, her time hiding in alleys was overwith...provided that her new allies had kept to their word and distracted the hunting guard.

Azhira stepped out of the alley and fell in line into more crowds of people. She kept her cowl low over her head as she walked. They were leading her to another inn...hopefully one where she could use a bed and a eat a good meal. Being on the run was tiring...although she should be very well used to it by now...

[Azhira Styralias]

Get away...far away...

Azhira weaved her way quickly through the crowds. Her eyes darted left and right, searching for a dark hole to hide in. The glances from the people she passed seemed angry to her, peering at her with disdain and hostility. She felt as if everyone she passed was going to draw a weapon and attack her.

But, she knew that was not true...but after hearing that man rant and rave about mages in the tavern, she knew she was a marked woman. Her powers were already known. Who knew how many witnesses saw her use her magic in the Boar's Beard. She was no longer a stranger in a strange land.

If only she could find a boat and quietly sneak out of the city...perhaps she could sail away from her troubles without getting too deep. Would these Remusians hunt her  down even if she left? Possibly, but she would rather take her chances anywhere but here.

For now, she had to find a place to hide and plan a strategy.

Ahead, she saw a locked and boarded building standing on the edge of the town square. From the looks of it, the building was half standing and half torn down. Some of the roof was caved in and the walls crumbled in places. A single door was on the west side of the building. Workers tools lay scattered about. From the looks of it, the building was either being built or torn down and the workers had gone home for the night. She would hide in there. It was dark now and getting colder.

She stepped to the building's west side where there was very little crowd. She walked around the building and found two windows, both of them boarded up. Azhira looked around to make sure no one was watching her and saw no passing by at that particular moment. She pushed a board and found it to be loose. She pushed it harder and it fell to the floor inside with a dull thud.

Azhira did the same with the other boards and opened the window enough for her to crawl inside. She hoisted herself up and over the window ledge and dropped inside the empty building.

It was dark inside, and a bit dusty, but it suited her fine. She was out of the cold and out of sight from curious passersby. But she couldn't shake the feeling that she was followed...

[Céyehne]

Céyehne watched the light around her fade. Despite the danger she felt she was in, the comfort of the shadows and the armored fan in her hand steadied her nerves. A little. Something else that helped was the stealth of her people. The Kasumarii were the most excellent of assassins and knew how to be furtive and silent. Because of this the dancer was able to keep a firm eye on the woman and avoid losing her. After passing a few streets and going fairly deep into the residential area of the city, Céyehne saw her pause. Taking a sharp breath as the other woman looked around; she flattened herself against a cool stone wall and waited, watching quietly for her next move. If she disappeared like she had earlier that day she would be impossible to find.

Instead, she did exactly what Céyehne hoped. She watched her push out some boards in an abandoned building and climb easily through the newly made hole. A grin found her ginger lips: this was perfect. It would be easy to gain her trust in seclusion. Well, in theory. Soft-shoed feet found their way to the mouth of the hole she’d made, now recognizable as a boarded up window. Looking around, the Darkpriest was satisfied with the lack of citizens walking about in the gloom. Tiny snowflakes swirled around her and made her think of home. With brightened spirits, the tiny woman put away her weapon and slipped through the window and into the dusty interior of the abandoned building.

She had done this fairly quietly, but with the little bit light shining through the window the woman cursed herself silently. She should have covered it up. By now, the woman could have seen her and drawn a weapon or moved to another opening and escaped in fear. It was going to get annoying if she had to chase her anywhere else in the city. Céyehne had ceased to wonder why she was attempting to help this woman. She moved away from the dim light coming through the porthole and breathed easy. She wanted to gain this woman’s trust. She wanted to assure her she was not alone, and that she could be safe if she’d accept help.

Murmuring softly, the dancer began the pattern of the magic she wished to cast. Within the recesses of her mind a flame sparked to life and she rejoiced in her gift from Korenjah, thanking the god of shadows endlessly for his blessing to her. Once she found joy in her gift, the actual casting of her magic came much easier. The full force of her blessing rested on her now though, and she couldn’t hold back. Her small feet began to move in a beautiful, timed pattern. They were small steps, and she swayed to and fro as if lovely music filled the vacant structure. ”Please, listen.” She said softly, hoping the woman would stay.

At that, she raised her arms in a sort of crescendo, willing the shadows to move. Obediently, the darkness in the room fled. It was incredible, as if pulling a sheet suddenly from a myriad of hidden items. Although there was only a little light streaming through from various lamps and lights remaining outside, it was enough. Xazure eyes immediately took in not only the woman, but skeletons of dead rodents, balls of dust and little piles of dirt. The stench was fully explained as the mess within was revealed, but the room was fairly empty otherwise. The shadows seemed to stream out the open window, and an odd sensation blanketed the room. Céyehne herself was used to it, but any onlooker would be puzzled. It was only natural for an old, boarded up room to be.. well… dark. And the absence of the usual shadows cast by the enclosing walls, the roof and the boards was slightly disturbing. It was odd and out of place as if some weird phenomenon was taking place.

In the deficient shadows the dancer saw the woman. She must have looked odd to her, her feet moving restlessly, her lips murmuring some unknown language and her arms raised in some stance of triumph. She thought it safe to let her slender arms drop, but she did not break the string of words flowing from her lips. She did not let her mind stray from her thankfulness towards Korenjah or the shadows would return. In all actuality this was a harder bit of magic to perform than met the eye. It was difficult to order every shadow to flee. Calling them to her was easier, because they were still present, only rearranged, but ordering them away was taxing. Her strength was already waning after a few minutes' time as the dancer waited for the woman to say something. Silently she pled, Please let this be enough for her to understand. She is not alone.

[Azhira Styralias]

Azhira sensed rather than saw the woman enter the building with her. Azhira couldn't shake the feeling that she was followed and as she was trying to find a place to hide, she sensed a motion behind her. It was if the presence was a shadow itself and willed the room to grow dark.

Azhira spun around throwing her hands up to cast a spell of wind exile...but paused. It was that shadow woman, as Ahira had come to call her after the woman's display of shadow manipulation in the alley. Azhira hadn't much time to think about her companion's talent with the shadows, or if her power was any kind of talent at all...perhaps she was a mage of some sort. Azhira never remembered seeing anyone at Ximax who could manipulate shadows, so this shadow woman was no elemental mage.

Azhira watched the woman enter. The mage lowered her hands because she could not sense danger from the shadow woman. Instead, Azhira knelt down on one knee and watched the shadow woman's fascinating display of movement and sound. She couldn't will her body to do otherwise.

Azhira felt a tingle along her back as the shadows in the room seemed to move and coalesce. Their master was beckoning them. The room grew darker and seeming smaller, but Azhira was not afraid. Instead she watched and wondered what kind of power this woman had.

A pang of fear took hold of Azhira. This city hunted and killed mages...was this shadow woman also fleeing that dreadful man in the Wison's Breath? If so, then the two women had something in common. For once in a very long while, Azhira felt comfortable with the shadow woman and began to slowly trust that she was a friend, not a foe.

Another thought occured to Azhira...she couldn't go on thinking of this woman as a shadow woman. Surely she had a name.

"I don't know how it is you managed to follow me here," Azhira said quietly. "I am fairly good at evading pursuers. You, however, have a few talents that are not so dissimilar to my own. I would like to know more. I am Azhira and as you already must know, I am a mage of the wind element, among other things. Who are you and what kind of power do you possess that can call the very shadows to you?"

[Céyehne]

Xazure eyes stared straight at the bald woman she’d been pursuing for several hours. She was knelt, on one knee, on the dusty floor of the empty building. Before Céyehne could say or do anything more, she spoke. She divulged herself as a wind mage, and her name as Azhira. Curiosity took her, and the Darkpriest loosed her grip on her shadowmancy as her mind flitted to the woman before her instead of Korenjah’s graciousness. The room suddenly darkened again as the shadows flew back into place much too fast. It was like damping a candle without warning. Only the shaft of thin light through the window’s opening remained. Sheepishly the woman smiled and murmured an apology, although she knew Azhira could probably not see her.

Kneeling to the ground beside her, the Kasumarii sat close next to the woman in the darkness. It was comfortable for her here, and it was an odd sensation to feel completely safe. Now, positioned to see out the window, Céyehne watched small flakes of snow falling to the ground. She did not hear much outside the building, only the shuffling of feet every now and again. ”Azhira, “ she breathed, the smile on her face apparent in her words, ”Me name b’ Céyehne . I hope not t’ have frighten’d ye. Me pow’r b’ not so great, an’ as ye can see, I can still lose control.” Her voice was melodious and as calm as always. She was relieved this woman had chosen to trust her and now she was speaking to her as a friend, not skeptically as a fearful acquaintance.

Was she fearful of this mage? It was confirmed, she was an elemental mage, she could manipulate the wind. Usually, the Kar-ii would be extremely scared, possibly shaking. But, although she feared the extreme power of most mages, this one seemed friendly enough. She would obviously rather flee than harm anyone, and it did not look as if she wanted to harm herself nor Torscha. Brushing her snowy hair from her face, she continued, ”Ye b’ much more pow’rful than me.. I jus’ move t’ shadows an’ they help me dance. Simple, ‘tis. Jus’ like I b’ a simple woman. ” She chuckled softly, because it really did seem simple in comparison to Azhira’s power.

She wanted to return to Torscha, but she waited. Silently she knelt beside the wind mage, feeling safe in the company of the shadows and the silence of the snowy city. She would allow her to ask questions and establish a little trust before moving on. Before she trusted her again with her life and making it to a secluded room in the Wison’s Breath. After what that stranger had yelled, and his display in the Inn, it might take some talking to bring Azhira back there.

[Azhira Styralias]

Azhira nodded as the woman calling herself Céyehne broke free the shadows around her and the room returned to its normal appearance. Although, Azhira thought she could still see wavering shadows here and there as if still under the woman's control. The mage knew that there was no sense hiding from her. Obviously, this shadowdancer was a skilled tracker and adept at trailing someone. And, curiously, this Céyehne had a power that was not typical of a Remusian.

"What do you want with me, shadowdancer?" Azhira asked. "Why help me? You heard that man in the inn. Mages and all like them are not welcomed here. By all measure, with what I just witnessed of your power, you should be hunted as well. So are you? By being with me, you will be hunted. If you think I need help, you needn't bother. I can take care of myself."

The mage turned to sit down on the creaking planks comprising the floor. A thick coat of dust covered every inch of the surface. Azhira waved a hand over the spot she chose to sit and the dust kicked up and disappeared as a small breeze wafted through. She stilled her hand and the breeze stopped leaving a clean spot to sit.

"So where is your companion?" Azhira asked. "Is he your lover? A city guard? Did he follow you? If you plan to turn me in, tell me now. At least give me a chance to go down fighting."

Azhira felt her eyelids drop and she quickly snapped them open again. Exhaustion was taking her over. Her use of magic over the past few hours had made her weary. The focus alone required to vanish in the alleys as she had was enough to start a headache building in her forehead. It was not often she used such a spell as it was draining on her mentally. But, she had better get used to it as she may need it again before the night is through.

[Céyehne]

The dancer listened in silence to the woman. She was obviously shaken. How could she not have known of the hatred these northern warriors had for magic and its uses? Shaking her head a little, she wondered why she had cause to caution her. Wasn't it obvious the Darkpriest was fine in this city? She was the one walking free. Compassion filled her as she watched the woman sit, clearing herself a space on the floor with wave of her hand. She was certainly much more powerful than Céyehne.

A chuckle bubbled from her ginger lips as Azhira asked about Torscha. The woman was tired, that was obvious. Despite her wariness, she was able to remain alert and concerned. Céyehne reached a compassionate hand to the woman's shoulder, a delicate and comforting touch. "He b' far from a lover, jus' a good frien'.." She thought on that for a moment, chuckling again. Or was he? Smiling now, she continued, "Bu' ye need not b' afraid o' us, we wan' t' help ye. Hide in t' Wison with us. We'll let ye rest an' ye can talk t' me frien'...." She trailed, crossing her legs and sitting in the dust.

Torscha. He must not know of her magic as Azhira  now did. Looking at her, almost pleadingly with her bright blue eyes, Céyehne spoke again in her soft, melodious way, "He knows not o' me power. He b' afraid o' magic... I won' b' tellin' him yet." No one in Remusiat knew of her Shadowmancy, and she wanted it to stay that way. She decided to be blunt, although her slender hands were shaking with the telling of one of her darkest secrets. She had divulged her power rarely since she left her tribe--she believed secrecy kept her alive. "Shadowmancy.. it b' a part o' me t' keep secret from t' world. No one bu' ye knows, I hope ye trus' me, frien', cause I b' placin' trus' in ye." Her voice had lowered to a near whisper as she spoke. She was afraid.

[Azhira Styralias]

"I don't know who to trust anymore," Azhira whispered. "I've been betrayed before...hurt..."

The mage paused, lowered her head and took a breath. She finally stood and faced her new, mysterious ally. If this woman, Ceyehne, was who she said she was, then she was probably just as much in danger as Azhira. Of course, Azhira chided herself, this Ceyehne didn't blatantly display her powers for all to see.

Right now, there was no way out of this city. Azhira wondered how she was going to survive now, but there were ways. She was a thief and a mage of the wind element. She had survived before in the face of danger and she knew how to keep hidden. But, for the life of her, she wasn't going to hide forever in this dusty old building.

If this Cayehne could help, Azhira would let her. Trust. Azhira mulled the word over in her mind. What other alternatives did she have?

"Alright, shadowdancer," Azhira said, her voice more confident. "I'll trust you for now. Know I do not bestow trust easily, but I see little alternative. Do you have a plan? What does your companion say about this? Is he willing to risk his life to aid a wanted person such as myself?"

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