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SERICA

Serica dreamt sweet dreams within her mind… however some, memories mostly, were not quite so sweet…

~ In tranquil woods, suddenly someone threw water across the fire and shouted an order. The people around her scattered like acorns striking the ground and rolling as far as they could from the oak. The man grabbed her hand and she was not afraid, she knew him and he would keep her safe. “Quick! Hide the girl!” Serica heard among the flood of voices and felt herself pulled upward and away from the man she clung to for dear life, the one she trusted. Her vision went dark as she was lifted high onto a horse and a fabric was draped over her head. She thought perhaps she would scream to be heard in the mess of shouts which echoed across the wood. She filled her lungs with air and choked on them as the horse broke straight into a gallop…~

The thunder of the hooves reduced to a whistle on the breeze as her entire body felt inflamed and then suddenly…
~She blinked her eyes open in some distant place. Her head was propped on the knee of a boy. She knew this dream, this place, this boy. She had done this before. Serica felt as if he was even more familiar to her now, like she could nearly place him. She suddenly felt the time and place rip at her heart as though to break it. It was the feeling of the memory; he had to keep her head about her. The stars were bright and seemed to be multiplying by the second as they both watched. "It's okay. I know we'll meet again. Don't worry." His voice tugged at her like that one word you can’t think of though you dance around its synonyms. "Really? Did you see it?" The second voice, she believed to be for own, asked eagerly. The boy looked down at her, a confirming expression on his face, but somehow a saddened shadow hidden in his eyes. She knew that look but what it meant waited without her reach, just ask the boy’s name did.~

And again the memory was gone. Gone, leaving her with a desperate sense of needing to know her answers. However, her longing subsided as her body flushed cold and a gentle voice called from the hallow of her mind.
~ “Do you promise?” A beautiful young woman, hair of silver and a look of love, asked a handsome young man, his hair was dark brown and messy but somehow it looked better that way. They sat beside each other on a grassy hill. “Yes.” He replied and he looked at her with great confidence in his words. “Good.” She said simply and leaned her head on his shoulder. Serica thought the woman to be herself but she was not within that body looking out. Serica moved toward them, wanting to look more closely at their faces. The man turned his head and two, dark, navy blue eyes turned sharply toward her. She saw the night’s sky in them as they stared at her, they would not smile or frown but simply shown. “Hu?... Ser?!” The woman had turned toward her too, looking directly at her, and she felt afraid or a moment. But then she knew it wasn’t herself. The beautiful woman smiled at her and stood. The body which Serica peered out from must have been small because the young woman had to bend down quite far to lift her. Serica felt herself full of love and delight. Those intense but gentle eyes of evening blue approached as well and beneath them, a kind and generous smile, yet it was sad. The young man kissed her forehead and whispered something in her ear; it tickled. Serica looked up at the woman who held her and saw the proof this woman was not her but someone very similar, her eyes were a light and adoring shade of periwinkle. “Can you say goodbye, Serica? Ser, say goodbye to-~

Her dream stopped just as suddenly as a memory began repeating itself to her, her sight still lost from it…
~ Feet, running as fast and as hard as they could, a heart beating quicker still... Horse hooves against the ground, getting louder and louder... Deep loud breaths kept with the running feet, heartbeat faster, harder... Hooves still getting louder, very close now-~

Serica felt her heart steady and all the distance of dreamland softly fell away from her.

She opened her eyes slowly. She was in a room, dark though it was, she could still see outlines. Was this another dream? She sat up slowly and a damp cloth slide from her forehead. She let her violet eyes adjust before looking around. She was in a bed, a soft bed and next to her was a lonely chair beside a small desk. On the chair was a basin which held liquid darker then water. Across the vacant room was a bench against the wall. On it sat both a pillow and a blanket or at least that is what it looked like in the darkness of the early morning.

“How did I get here?” Serica fought furiously for the last thing she remembered but so much of it seemed to be a dream. Had she met the two men in the ruins, Dameon and Versai? If so, had they escaped? Had they saved her? No. Certainly that was all another fantasy!

Serica lifted her knees beneath the fabrics and leaned her elbows against them. Her shoulder was tight, hard to move. She looked at it and saw it wrapped in cloths meant to keep it still. She stared at it in disbelief and suddenly a throbbing pain pulsed in her head. She reached for the pain in the back of her head, there was a small bump which hurt most and was covered in goo. Retrieving her hand, Serica saw three things, blood, a salve and the silver ring. She closed her eyes and held the back of her head with her hand, trying to think of what to do.

The door, which she had not seen, to her far right, beyond the chair and desk, creaked slowly open. Serica turned slowly to see a pair of deep blue eyes meet her gaze at 6ft and suddenly drop on all fours. It was a wolf, his fur as dark as the night itself and there was no fear in her eyes as she watched him, in disbelief of his existence…
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WILK

*The wolf nudged the door farther open. It was glad that the girl had woken up, she had been sleeping for quite some time now, and she hadn't been the most still of sleepers. It padded in to the room, around the bed, not taking it's eyes off the girl. The wolf knew that she trusted him, it was visible in her violet eyes. He moved to the end of the bed, yawned, bearing his enormous teeth, and went to lay down on the bench. It lept onto the bench and stood for a moment before changing it's mind, ad it lept off again. It had better things to do than lay idle.*

*The wolf was what many people call a lone wolf, and alpha male, with no pack. As such, having another being to watch after was a new and profound experience. It gave the wolf a feeling it was very used to, but in a different and unexpected way. It made the wolf feel strong. It growled slightly, at the thought that it wasn't as strong as it possibly could be. The wolf moved to the side of the bed and looked at the girl. The wolf stared into her violet eyes, trying to tell her, "Stay here and rest, all will be fine." Talking, for the moment, was out of the question, so communication would have to be through feeling and expression. It would build a better relationship of trust between the two, and as far as the wolf was concerned, it had saved her, and now she was his responsibility. So the wolf would look after her, at least until she was well. If the girl didn't trust the wolf, it couldn't help her.*

*The wolf turned and walked to the door. With a final glance backwards, it winked at the girl, something a normal wolf would never do. It turned and left, and with a swish of the tail, the door shut behind it.*

*Outside the room, the wolf moved to the stairs. It checked around for anyone who could see him. The it did something very odd. It stood, on it's two back paws, and as it did so, it's night sky of a coat fell from it's body, dissolving into the air as it fell. Left behind was not a naked wolf, but a man. He had hair black as night, and the same steely-blue eyes as the wolf he was, not a minute before. He was clothed in loose black pants, gloves that had blue designs reminiscent of wind, a hooded, black and white long-coat without sleeves. He had a long, blue headband, tied around his forehead, and he had a large belt around his waist. The man shivered, straightened his coat, and descended the stairs.*

*The main floor of the tavern was alive with activity. Loud men eating, other loud men drinking, and even more loud men harassing the young women in the tavern. How this noise didn't travel upstairs, the man didn't know, but regardless, he was glad that it didn't. Suddenly, the bartender called to the man.* "Hey Wilk! Come over here! I have your order ready!" *Wilk smiled, he had always enjoyed the bartender's company, they had shared many a story together. Wilk's travels were always well accepted, the bartender would usually use the information that he could glean from the stories, so that he could always stay on top of the goings-on in the world. After all, you better to ask information than a bartender! Wilk walked swiftly to the bar and looked to the bartender.* "I admit, that was alot quicker than I expected. Thank you." "Anything for a friend. How is the girl anyway?" "She's just woken up, so your timing with the food was perfect. Thank you again." *Wilk received the tray of food from the bartender and made for the stairs again.*

*At the top of the stairs, Wilk layed the tray down on the ground, making as little noise as possible. He back away from the tray, and took a deep breath. As he fell to the ground on all fours, his body, including his clothes, became black, as black as the depths of a black hole, and when he landed, he was the wolf again. His pelt as thick and nightly as ever before, and his steely-blue eyes, reflecting the candle light in the hallway. Wilk bent his head and gently took the tray in his powerful jaws. He walked to the door and opened it with a paw, all it needed was a little push.*
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VERSAI

As the ruby-red traces of morning light hit the rooftops of the largest city in Dae Luin, a lone figure entered silently through the Eastern gate. The nondescript male passed anonymously from street to street, attracting little attention from the city's early risers.

The day was not particularly windy, but the tall buildings and confined spaces made a home for strange currents in the air. Breezes and crosswinds tugged at his grey sleeves and cloak, threatening to pull the hood off of his head like an impatient lover. Paper debris swirled around his feet, enslaved by a draft that brought life to the pavement. Life was everywhere, in a city.

Eventually, the wind won a round of tug-o-war, and the young man's hood would flap away, revealing a plain, ovular face, pale pink skin, very round blue-green eyes and a mop of tousled, mouse-brown hair. He immediately snatched at the hood, and pulled the red bandana from his neck up to his nose. His name was Versai and he was directionless.

The lanes were shadowed, and sparsely populated, yet still the lone man led his footsteps down the narrower, more secretive alleyways. In a few hours, the whole city would be aflame with activity. The streets would be packed with merchant carts, and Versai's head would be cluttered with shouts of peddler's prices and the general hubbub of people with more business than he. For now, the city was peaceful. He liked it that way.

As he arrived at Mooncrest Tavern, the sun was finally clearing the horizon. It had taken its sweet time, rising slowly, its heavy, golden body stretching skyward. Versai hesitated at the tavern's door when its lovely tide of warmth touched his skin. The night's chill shrieked and fled from his body before the harsh glare of the clear, cloudless sky.

Do I really want to enter Mooncrest Tavern? he asked himself. It's a grubby, dark, dusty place, and likely filled with rogues and drunkards, especially at this hour...
He already knew the answer. He had nowhere else to go, for the moment, and (ironicly) no plans for the future. With a heavy heart, he reached for the bag on his belt.

Within a few moments, he'd adopted more than a handful of jewelry: Big, gaudy rings (worn OVER his gloves, nonetheless), beaded necklaces, large, hooped earrings, and a massive broach on his cloak. It was all stage jewelry, mostly worthless, but it did the trick. He adopted a swagger and mentally prepared his best accent. He cast a quick spell to make his nose bend and his teeth slightly crooked, and a second glamour to make his eyes as white as a blind man.

He was no longer Versai, but now Versival The Amazing! Having no real talents, besides a psychic inclination and a knack for misdirection, Versai found that he often needed to act a little... showy, if he wanted room and board.

He grasped the doorknob and swung it open as fast and hard as he was able, and meandered into the tavern. The bartender, who'd seen this whole routine and knew the real Versai, gave him a wary eye-- gaurdedly friendly. Versival the Amazing made sure noone was looking and shot him a quick wink.

With his hood pulled down, Versai looked as though he didn't want to attract attention, so naturally every head in the bar- underpopulated though it was- craned to look at him. He followed standard procedure, taking the table in the farthest, darkest corner, and staring off at nothing. He ordered an ale from the serving girl and waited.

The few patrons in the bar would be curious, he knew. He didn't make eye contact with any of them. In the mean time, he reached into his belt pouch and withdrew a deck of cards (incomplete) and a bag of precious stones and shells and the like. He didn't need either of them to predict the future, but sometimes it helped if the readee had something pretty to look at.

As he set up his materials at his table, the barmaid returned with his drink. Knowing that all the eyes were giving him furtive glances, he dropped a chunk of quartz into the cup before taking a swig. The more crazed he looked, the better. Crazy was the name of the fortune-telling game.

The barmaid winked at him, and suddenly he recognized her. He'd given her a REAL reading, some seasons ago, and the last time he'd been in Mooncrest she'd gone out of her way to make him feel welcome. He was fairly certain that she might be smitten with him. He could have known for sure if he'd cared to, but he didn't really want to know.

"Thank ya, child," he intoned, stretching the vowels longer than was really necessary, "Will ya be wantin' a reading today? No charge." The accent was one he'd picked up on some southern coastline, and it was suffiently exotic-sounding to cut through conversations in crowded inns.

The barmaid giggled and looked to the bartender for permission. The bartender didn't look nearly as enthusiastic about Versai's arrival as the serving girl was, but he should have been... attractions like Versai tended to bring in more business, if word spread quick enough.

Versai himself just needed someone to start working on. When the barmaid-- was her name Cassy?-- was through getting her fortune told, the curiosity would become too much for one of the patrons. Nobody wanted to be the first one to talk to the weirdo in the corner, but if everyone was doing it, it would seem like a fun way to pass the time.

He shuffled the cards expertly. Some of the numbers were missing, but he'd held onto all of the royalty. Turning over the first five cards, facing the girl whose name might be Cassy, Versai (or, rather, Versival the Amazing!) shook the second pouch and spilled some of the stones over the cards. In the meantime, he was reading her future, his third eye focused on her forehead.

"Tha future looks brigh' for you, missy," he murmured. The more hushed his voice was, the harder the patrons had to strain to hear him. "The garnet is a symbol o' passhun, an' its landed on tha queen o' harts."
He took a swig of ale for emphasis, doing some quick guesswork. She was young, healthy and moderately attractive, so...
"Ya've had many suitors, tha cards tell me," he said, returning to shuffling, "One o' tha lads be rich, yea? Donnae fall for 'is wealth, as the shell 'as met the nine o' diamons. Shells be from tha ocean, an' be a symbol of change. 'E'll be losing 'is wealth, right quick."

At this point, Cassy was trying hard not to giggle. Versai had confided in her, previously, that the cards and the accent and the stones had nothing to do with what he did. For some reason, though, people were more inclined to listen to advice from a deck of cards than from a man who claimed to know the future.

And so he rambled, on and on, until the time came to dismiss the girl. She refilled his mug and gave him one last smile before returning to her duties.

It was not long before the first man decided he was brave enough to approach the Amazing's table. His friends gathered 'round, though, stinking drunk and laughing their arses off at the strange stranger. People entering the tavern would wander over to see what the hubbub was, and there was soon a flood of people ordering drinks and laughing at eachother's future misfortunes.

Eventually, Versai had enough money to pay off his tab, and even to live richly for a few days. He grinned, the crooked teeth of Versival the Amazing disguising his petty joy.

SERICA

Serica smiled brightly as the wolf jumped up beside her. “Why, thank you for joining me, Night.” There was a hint of laughter in her voice. What did she have to be afraid of? Even if she had no idea where she was, whoever had brought her here had helped her and Night kept her safe. Serica moved her hand slowly toward the wolf’s head which now rested on her leg but withdrew, uncertainly. The head was not the first place to touch on an animal; it was usually considered insulting and a challenge.

Serica rested her hand on her hip and paused to think, ~I wonder, am I in someone’s house? Or just a room? I remember hearing about people living underground… I couldn’t be in that kind of place, I have fresh air and sunlight.~ Serica glanced lazily at the window as the wolf leapt from her bed. She turned to watch him pace anxiously. “What’s the matter, Night?”

The wolf returned to her bed side and leapt up next to her again, this time he sat staring at her. He looked at her intently, as though he was trying to ay something and although Serica stared back and tried to figure it out she was lost. After another moment or so he lifted the lid from her food. ~Night is so careful about it… how can he know?~ she wondered to herself as she gazed at curiously.

She put aside her curiosity and looked over the full try of food. Everything before her was more then enough to feed her for a week if she continued to eat as little as she had recently. She moved first for the bread and she torn a piece off in her hand. The wolf moved swiftly for the door. She turned before he had even bitten into it and watched Night bow to her.

Serica felt uncomfortable for a moment, uncertain of what had just happened. Night seemed almost human to her yet at the same time he was still a wild creature. She pondered on it for only a minute before digging into the meal set out before her. There was chicken, oh delicious chicken, peas, a little undercooked, some sort of orange fluffy pudding which tasted nothing like pudding but was delicious nonetheless. There was a short but wide bottle of something and two short mugs. ~Why two? Am I expecting someone?~ Serica frowned slightly and looked to the door again before pouring the drink into one of the cups and sipping it. The drink was very sweet, a juice maybe, or a very sweet tea. She drank a few cups of the liquid and eat all of the fluffy pudding (mashed sweet potatoes smile ).

~Am I just supposed to sit here until Night comes back?~ Serica doubted in her mind.

Serica’s appetite was well served for the rest of the day but her curiosity was starving though it had only been perhaps five minutes since the wolf had left her room. ~ Be quick and quiet, you may not be as welcome as you believe…~ mother’s voice cooed in her ears. Serica stood uneasily, stumbled for a moment but caught herself on the desk. Her head didn’t hurt so much but her head still ached as it helped to catch her. Serica moved back to the bed again, pulling on her high boots and lacing them quickly. She reached around the bed and found her cloak had been folded and placed near where her boots had been. Serica laid the cloak over her arm and rose again; she stood more steadily this time.

Serica searched the morning lit room for a mirror but didn’t find one. She gently placed the lid back over the remaining food and walked quietly toward the door, certain the wolf would bound back into the room any second. Her hand graced the cool door handle and slowly turned it until it clicked open. She stepped out the door and casually closed it behind her, noting the handle on the outside and wondering how the wolf could have opened it without assistance.

Serica stepped into the wide hall and looked both ways. To her left there was no one, just stairs leading down into a fairly noisy place. To her right, a man walked briskly down the hall away from her and as his hand touched the door knob she called, “Sir… Excuse me, sir?” She didn’t expect that he would hear her from so far but she tried anyway. Serica paused and swung her cloak over her shoulders, the hood waiting to be dawned. It covered that of her hair which hung below her shoulders as she waited for a response from the man down the hall. If he did not respond she would simply go the other way, down into the noise and hope she could find what or who she was looking for.
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VERSAI

As Versai took light steps towards the bathroom, he heard a female voice call for him. Wheeling about dramatically, he said, "Ah'm sorra, Missy, bu' Versival nee's a few hours res'..."

His dialogue was cut short as he caught sight of a familiar face. He recognized her composed posture instantly, but his brain did a quick tally against the other features. Silver hair, like strands of moonlight? Check. Piercing violet eyes? Check. Incredibly fair-skinned? Checkeroo. With such features, it was difficult to mistake Serica for someone else, even had you known her for only a few hours.

"Miss Lumen!" Versai interjected after a brief, baffled pause. "I see you're safe and sound." He stopped, for lack of much else to say. He had forgotten that he was disguised; there was very little likelihood that Serica would recognize him, looking (as he did) not unlike a crazed gypsy of some sort.

He was surprised. Surprise is an awful feeling for a visionary to feel. He tried to stumble through a few more words. "I- you- be- have- yes?" was the best he could come up with while his brain worked out what was going on at superfast speeds. He suddenly recalled the confusing vision he'd had just the previous night.
"The wolf, he saved you. The man, I mean. Yes?"

He had stepped a little closer, unaware of how strange and borderline-frightening he must look at the moment. Glancing down at the staircase nervously, he realized that he had abandoned his phoney accent. Noone apparently overheard, but he was paranoid enough about having his cover blown that he was quite on-edge. He stepped into the room she had apparently emerged from, asking quickly, "Can we speak in private, please?"
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SERICA

The crazy looking man had stopped and turned toward her rather significantly and in response Serica stood up much more straight then before. "No, no. I'm afraid you misunderstand me, sir." She continued, "I was looking for someone- a-" She paused as the man called her name, her last name to be more precise, which she had only revealed to four or five people.

"Miss Lumen?" Serica repeated in a whispered to herself, she was somewhat taken aback by his words. Serica stared at the man rather baffled wondering how he could know her name. He is not Jaquline, nor Dameon, nor Catalyst, nor Versai…

"I guess you could say that..." She replied softly to the man's exclamation of her safety and wellbeing. Her head only ached lightly, the salve on it made it buzz more then feel numb and her shoulder felt like it had been ripped out of socket and put back. It worked well enough. “Who- ?” She began but stopped herself for the moment.

Serica glanced only once toward the stairs as the crazy, gypsy, man began to say something but it didn't make much sense. She listened to his voice though and something within her mind clicked. ~Could it be?~ ~He is a seer~ Mother replied smoothly. She turned slowly back and locked her violet eyes on the man who appeared blind but was certainly not so. "Versai?" She whispered as though questioning him.

"The wolf? There was a man?" Serica stared at him, still a bit lost in her own thoughts but somehow she thought he could give her all the answers. ~So the wolf, Night, he has another human friend? Maybe he owns this place. That would at least make some sense.~

Between the change of expression, posture and voice Serica had concluded in her mind that Versai had possessed the crazy man in hopes of finding her, or something of that sort. It was possible he had just found her on accident but now he approached her and wanted to speak.

Serica looked very uncertain about letting him into her room, or the room as it might be. "Umm... I suppose, sure." She glanced down the hall behind "Versival" and saw no one; she looked back toward the stairs and called, "Night... Night, where did you go? I need you…" she said the last part a bit softer and more strained as he let the man enter before her. Serica wanted to be safe incase Versai lost his grip on the crazy man and the crazy man went really crazy on her. Besides, a wolf wasn't company to a private conversation, right?

Serica slipped back into the room she temporarily called her own and quickly moved the bench so it sat in the middle of the room, partially facing the bed, with the chair to its left and the small desk with food between them. She expected that Night would lounge across the bed and “Versival” would take the bench, as she gestured to it.

“What’s this all about?” Serica asked, moving the basin of bloody water to the floor under the chair and seating herself on it. In this spot she felt she would have an easy break for the door if need be. Serica then subtly checked for her throwing knives, however they had all been removed but the ones strapped to her high black boots.

Serica acted as if she was not in any pain at all, or well, she did so as best she could. “Can I interest you in some chicken?” Serica lifted the lid she had placed over the tray of food and placed it aside. Her skin appeared especially ghost like in the sunlight as it poured in through a window behind her.

WILK

*As event's unfolded, it was all Night could do to not laugh. He was extremely on edge, but the panicked antics of the strange man greatly amused Night. The fear that Night could cause, just by his very presence, was always something that gave him great pride. Night eased up a bit, as the strangely dressed man mentioned the ruins. The girl's touch, eased his tension a bit as well.*

*As much as the man had sent off alarms in Night' head, he was helping Night very much. The man knew the girl, from the ruins as Night had previously collected, which meant that this strangely dressed man was the one who had fled from the golem, and had left the girl for dead. This made Night like the man even less than he already did. Night ceased his growling and snarling, and replaced it with bearing his gleaming white teeth.*

*Moments later, after Night had gotten a full hold on the situation, the girl fell to the floor. She was bleeding again, if Night had any lesser control of himself, he would've swore. He leapt off the bed and went to her side. He nuzzled her, trying to comfort her. Moving her would be quite a bit harder in his wolf form and he couldn't change with both of them in the room. Now the tables had turned, Night was panicked, but only slightly.*

*The girl was in pain, and she need to be on the bed, Night was trying so hard to think of a way to help, that he almost missed the name she had placed on the man, "Versai." Night shrugged it off as not important right now. The girl was standing now, and Night returned to the bed, and gently grabbed her shirt with his teeth, pulling her to the bed at the same time. Night made sure she fell softly, and when she landed, Night pulled her whole body onto the bed. The salve he had made couldn't help her if it was sitting idle, so Night moved to the bed side table and dipped his paw in it. With the largest amount he could hold on his paw, he moved to the pillow and placed it where the remaining salve was. Now it was fresh, and as much as it still burned Night when he touched it, he knew it would work just as well as the first time he had applied it.*

*With much effort, Night was able to move the girl to the pillow, lift her head, and place the pillow under her, so that the salve, when her head hit it, spread out to cover the entire injured area. Night nuzzled the girl as she lay with her eyes closed, hoping that she would rest. Night gently pulled the girl's cloak away from her head and he breathed lightly on her forehead. Night backed away and leapt off of the bed, making as little noise and vibration as he could.*

*Night was relieved to have the girl resting again, but he would not stand to have the man stay in the room with her. She needed to be left alone for the moment, and Night was intent on seeing that that happened. He growled lightly at the man, bearing his teeth. Night positioned himself so that the man could only leave the room, if he feared Night at all, that's what he ought to do. Night didn't want to hurt the man, it seemed that the girl trusted him enough to ask for his help, but Night did want to know who this "Versai" was before he let him touch the girl. He snarled again, and moved toward the an called Versai."
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VERSAI

Something clicked in Versai's brain as he watched the wolf manipulating what he could only assume was some sort of herbal paste. He'd known very intelligent beasts, in the past, but no true wolf had that level of dexterity. It seemed too precise and practiced for an animal.

Several theories on the nature of the creature Serica had called "Night" occurred to him all at once. He knew that powerful wizards had a penchant for changing people into animals, so it could be that this was a punished apprentice. That would explain his appearance as a human in Versai's vision, but not the other shapes. Perhaps Night had been tamed by some unseen master, although that did not address the vision at all. He could feel the answer on the edge of his consciousness, but for the moment he had to give up on it.

Serica was, after all, in trouble. Again. This time, luckily, he felt he might be able to help without endangering himself. That is to say, if there were not a massive, feral-looking monster baring its teeth at him.

He assessed his own morals as quickly as possible. He'd abandoned this girl to her fate once already. Was he yellow enough to back down a second time? Did he spineless? He found, to his shock, that the answer was yes. His conscience wanted to hound him, but luckily his ego had a visual aide: Night's shiny, white fangs.

On the other hand, he still felt that hanging, irrational fear of Serica's mother. Somehow he was convinced that if he left the girl to whatever psychic attacks she was suffering, Sabriel would find out and track him down, from beyond the grave if need be. She was, after all, a very powerful sorceresses.

Versai, keeping one eye locked on Night, paced towards the open door and slowly, very deliberately, closed it. He began taking off his fake jewelry as he spoke.
"Listen, Night," he said, wincing as he tugged the wrong way on one of the earrings, "You clearly don't like me. But that girl there? She's been suffering from psychotic breakdowns punctually for two nights now. I'm fairly certain that the cause is internal."

He paused as the last ring came off his finger and was secreted away in his belt pouch. In one swift motion, he pulled back the threadbare hood, and the glamor disappeared with it. All at once, Versival's outlandish features returned to Versai's meek and bookish face. The milky white pupils shrank back into deep blue eyes, his nose and teeth straightened to Versai's far plainer countenance.

He looked Night straight in the eye and said, very calmly, "I'm going to sit back down on the bench and close my eyes. I won't be able to move. I'm going to try to help your friend. I need you to not rip my throat out while I'm doing that." He was speaking in short, simple sentences because he still wasn't sure how smart the beast was.

Versai returned to his seat, half expecting Night to attack him. He couldn't help but add, "If I start drooling, could you be a dear and wipe it up?"

With that, he closed his eyes and was no longer in his body.

--------------------

Versai's astral body felt scattered, as a result of the fears coursing through his mind. At any moment, Night could savage his helpless body, and he wasn't sure what that would mean for him. He'd have no physical form to return to, obviously, and he'd probably just wither away silently and invisibly as his mortal mind lost its sanity.

Dark thoughts on his part were not going to help Serica, and they certainly weren't helping him. He took a moment to calm himself down before examining his surroundings.

Versai was in a forest at dusk, oddly enough. He'd been aiming for Serica's mind. He tried to float forward, towards a fire glimmering in between the trees. This attempted went sourly for him, as he found himself- not an astral projection or remote viewing singularity, but a small child. A boy. A young boy.

Odd! he thought to himself. This has never happened before. He was, of course, wrong.

Wandering towards the light on diminuitive legs, he found himself at a destroyed campsite. He recognized it almost instantly; it was the travelling coven he'd called home for most of his youth. There was the cauldron, though it was tipped over and the fire out of control, Miss Agatha Printhias's tent, slashed and maimed, and Sabriel's tent in the corner, brightly ablaze.
And over on the other side of the clearing was the angry mob.

Versai smiled serenely, having placed his current location. He was at the old coven, on the day it was ambushed by torch-and-pitchfork wielding villagers. His smile vanished when a burly man in the front pointed directly at him and yelled something nasty.

Versai never did an about-face with more alacrity as he did just then, willing himself forward. It had occured to him, in some closed-off corner of his brain, that he was in one of Serica's memories, somehow. This seemed irrelevant, however, as very soon he might cease to exist.

He twisted between trees, remembering that he'd panicked and found cover in the foliage when he'd been through this the first time. Ducking under a palmetto leave, he huddled between some oak roots. The storm of footsteps washed over, trampling down undergrowth around him, but before long it was gone.

When this had happened to him in reality, he'd hid and cried for hours before moving. It was an awful, awful night. He broke the chain of events that had actually occured, however, and stood, renewing his purpose. He had to find Serica and help her get over whatever mental attacks she was undergoing.

No sooner had he broken from his role did Sabriel herself descend on him. Or, really, it wasn't Sabriel, not really. It was a ghostly, ephemeral... memory of a person. Serica's memory of her mother? Or Versai's memory of the same figure? He couldn't tell; the psychic world was a muddled place.

"You'd best leave this place, now," instructed the memory. Its voice carried the same force that had backhanded him when he'd accidentally telepathized to Serica.

He decided to choose his words carefully. "This," he started, gesturing to the nightmarish woods, "This is destroying her, isn't it?"
Suddenly, the apparition was gone. Versai felt like he'd been talking to a treestump, since there was no sign that Sabriel had ever appeared to him.
It was things like that that made Versai hate his job.

He high-tailed it for the roadon the outskirts of the woods, where he knew that child-Versai would run into one of the girls from the coven. As he moved, his conviction became stronger and stronger that it was Serica he would find there.
_________________

WILK

*Night knew that the man was right. The girl was in pain, and though the salve could ease the physical pain, it couldn't end her massive headache. Night would let the man do what was necessary, he wasn't happy about it, but he would back off from "Versai."*

*Night took up his pacing again. Back and forth, he covered the entire room. Passing the door, Versai, and the girl, all in turn. He didn't like feeling useless, but that was the position that he had been put into. Night stopped by the bed and sat, looking to the girl for any signals of relief. Finding none, Night took up pacing again.*

*Night was growing impatient. He had been pacing for a while now and he was beginning to like this "Versai," less and less. Night wanted to leave the room, he felt that he might tear the man's throat out if he didn't see any improvement in the girl's condition. After all, the only reason that Night had to trust him was that the girl herself had asked for his help. Night took Versai's word with a grain of salt.*

*Now, five minutes later, Night had given up on waiting. He layed at the base of the bed, staring at Versai, with eyes half-closed. Every twenty seconds or so, his eyes would close and he would begin to drift into the dream realm. Followed shortly by his eyes shooting open, and Night lifting his head to wake himself. For about the tenth time, Night did this, but this time he stood when he awoke himself. Night was going downstairs to get a drink.*

*Outside the room Wilk shook off the last few strands of fur from his shoulder. He readjusted his gloves, and straightened his cloak under his belt. tussling his hair he began to head down the stairs, the tavern's noise leveling increasing steadily. When Wilk stepped off of the last step, he was aware that the number of people in the tavern was very small, and that a large amount of the noise was now being caused, by a small group of three musicians. They weren't very good, but Wilk enjoyed their sound. As Wilk sat at the bar, he tossed a coin into a hat that had been placed in the center of the stage. Wilk looked to the bartender, and simply asked him for something strong.*

-----------

*Wilk took the last sip of his drink at the same time that Versai broke his role in the girl's mind, unknown to Wilk. Wilk didn't really know what was going on in the room right now, and had ceased to care about half way into his drink. The bartender had made Wilk very happy. The drink was probably the strongest one on the shelf. It wasn't cheap either. Wilk wished he could remember the name, but his mind was slipping, and he couldn't ask the bartender either, because words now failed him. Wilk stood from the bar and stumbled away. The bartender had insisted that Wilk pay before hand, and he was right in doing so. Wilk would be hard-pressed to procure coin from his pocket at the moment. Bumping against chair and person alike, Wilk made his way to the stairs. Ascending the stairs slowly, he thought only of getting back to the room.*

*Somehow, Wilk succeeded in getting back to the room, and had he not drank so much, would have noticed that he hadn't changed. Wilk was now lying on the floor, at Versai's feet asleep.... and drooling.*

VERSAI

Versai approached the road cautiously, knowing that the armed villagers would frequent the road. It was by sheer luck that he'd avoided them in the real world, and now that he had altered the sequence of events he felt very vulnerable. It was abandoned, which was a strange twist of luck. He'd hoped to find Serica here, in this spot, as he had the first time everything had occurred. On the other hand, he was rather early for that encounter.

He stood idly. No sense in rushing off to find a girl whom he knew was eventually coming to him. The wind whipped across his face, and he found himself wishing he'd the cloak and hood and bandanna that accompanied his physical body. Following that train of thought, he wondered if he had access to the modest magical prowess that he'd obtained since parting paths with the coven. Probably not, he guessed.

His vital strategization was interrupted as the young Serica ran towards him, arms outstretched. It was strange, because he was supposed to find her unconscious on the ground. Furthermore, for a split second, as she saw him, the world... flickered. As if some important transgression had been made.

He stood stock still as she hugged him, moving his arms in a conciliatory manner to pat her on the back. Internally, he was experiencing a sudden rush of doubts concerning his ability to handle the situation.

"Serica," he started, before she could make any sort of remark, "Listen to me."

"What?"

"This is a memory. The memory of the day you're torn from your home and your mother. The memory of your first awakening to the violence inherent in the world."

She stared blankly, as though he had not spoken. He had broken the fourth wall of the dream and this fraction of her ego didn't seem to know how to react. He pushed on, saying, "Now it's not even a memory, because I've changed to order of the events. It's a fantasy now."

Something was looming up behind Serica as he spoke. Not something visible, just an impression. Versai could see it clearly, with his third eye. Sabriel, or the phantom of Sabriel, given life in Serica's mind, was staring very pointedly at him. He hands were clasped over the child's ears. Even so, there was a flicker of uncertainty in Serica's eyes...

"Look what's in your mind," he pointed at the image of Sabriel. "You've set everything up so that your mother can still protect you, so she can repress your past. But the past always catches up with you, and if you don't accept it, it could destroy you..."

Versai trailed off. He wasn't sure to what degree his accusations were true, but he had a gut feeling that he was right. He also had a gut feeling that he was in a load of trouble, though that had more to do with the way Sabriel was regarding him than any brand of intuition.

It was Sabriel who spoke next. ~Behind you...~
Before Versai had even finished processing that cryptic message, the sound of men on horseback reached his ears. s**t! he thought Now I know why Serica is unconscious, when I find her a minute later.

Stoically, he turned to face the Montenegro mob, trying to breath deeply into his small boy lungs. They were nearly on him, and he recognized one of them immediately; a grey blur of smoke and water, sitting atop a destrier and leering facelessly at him.

Death swung his blade and Versai closed his eyes.


And opened them. He was sitting in a jolly, warm room in Mooncrest Tavern. There were no wolves or angry men, and for once the tavern was fairly quiet. The innkeep started knocking on the door, asking, "Hot cider?" Versai stood from the bench to let him in.

When the innkeep took a step into the room, he looked rather confused. His eyes passed from the pale-faced Versai who'd just barely avoided death to the girl wracked with fever in the bed to Wilk, who was passed out on the floor. Wolf shedding thinly layered the floor and a basin of some sort of salve had been tipped over.

"Anyone dead?" the innkeep asked worriedly.

"No, not yet."

Versai must have had an honest face, because the keep stared for a moment and replied, "Sure, sure. Make sure noone does. It's bad for business."

"Right," Versai said with a sigh. "How about that cider, then?"

VERSAI

Few natural things were as precious to Versai as a good, old-fashioned apple. It was a fruit to cherish, certainly, for its sweetness and its versatility. Raw or candied, pie or cobbler... there were always plenty of things to do with an apple, the orchard's gift. Still, his favorite use was in hot cider.

He'd read somewhere that according to some folklore, every apple contained a spirit of the natural world. He wasn't so sure about that, but nevertheless he said a quiet thanks as the warm brew, nearly fermented, slid down his throat and nurtured his spirits, its heavy scent washing up out of the mug and across his face.

He'd taken up a place in the stables, since the tavern itself was occupied. He didn't mind sleeping in the hay, nor did he particularly mind the smell, but he had still been disappointed. It wasn't the same as having a real bed with sheets and pillows, though a blanket had been provided for him.

He yawned, mouse-brown hair falling away from his eyes. He'd been awake for most of the previous night, stopping only for a brief nap in the woods, far from the city's gates. When the last drop of cider had left his mug, but before it vanished from his mouth and throat, he drifted into sleep.

---------------

His mind's eye was soaring over the treetops, the convections, currents and drafts jostling him as he found he had wings, whose feathery compasses were pushing him forward, into the sky. The sun and the moon hung opposite each other in the sky, the golden sunlit clouds mingling with the moon's sweet violet radiance and leaving a strange streak down to the horizon. It was there that his wings were taking him.

Over lakes, rivers, hills and gorges the wind flowed, and Versai followed. His rational mind was elsewhere; asleep, blinded. His consciousness was held bare against the world without any words between. He fell gently out of the latticing network of zephyrs, finding he was but an ant or some other crawling creature.

And he landed near a cave. It was of significance somehow, this cave, whose mouth looked like an ancient door. He began to climb down, into the stones, the tedium of his legs soothing.

At the bottom of the passage was a cat, who looked at him with dead certainty and began to whisper riddles. Difficult riddles, they were, and Versai strained to make his mind work, to solve the puzzles, but to no avail. He was just an ant, a mindless creature, for whom riddles were not intended. The cat stalked away, displeased, leaving him to continue his journey.

Down, he went, through cracks and fissures in the walls and floor. In one chamber, water nymphs were dancing with blind fish. Versai wished he could join them, but felt compelled to move onward, to crawl deeper, to flex his mind into the heart of the labyrinthine mine.

At long last he came to the center chamber, to which all the others eventually led. And there was Sabriel, his first teacher. She was sitting on a rock, her eyes closed in meditation. He thought it rude to interrupt, so he waited.

An eternity of seconds passed.

"Stop prying in the fates of others," spake Sabriel.

Versai shivered, and could suddenly feel his own spine, his own body. But he was still in the dream; still an ant.

"What do you mean?" he asked her. "I'm a seer. It's my duty to use my gifts to help the pure and the just."

More time passed before Sabriel answered. "A seer you may be, but you have sought the tales of others while avoiding your own."

Versai was still trying to find a response for this when Sabriel spake again.

"Involve yourself in no business until you have answered for your own destiny. The specter which follows you will cut closer each time you intervene in the life of another."

He gulped, eyes fluttering open. The dream was fading quickly from his memory, but he held onto the last few seconds with growing dismay.

It was not a great beginning for a new day (though it was half over, in truth), so he laid back again, trying to convince himself to go back to sleep.

SERICA

Serica drew back slightly as the man's eyes fell on her, those eyes so familiar in color and shape. He seemed panicked by her presence. She watched him rise and excuse himself, he seemed afraid of something... certainly not her?

"Wait... Sir... Please! I'm- have you seen," The door was closed before she could ask him of the wolf and how she might find him.

The tuft of fur was soft in her hand as she rolled it slowly between her fingers.

Unexpectedly, Serica's thoughts gathered once more, memories screaming, her head aching to sort them, hear them, know them. "Night!" Serica called, holding loosely on to a hope that he might come to her.

She reached out clutched the wooden post at the end of the bed with her left arm, squeezing it furiously in a pained way she did not understand.

There was certainly pain shooting from her injured shoulder but it was nothing like that of the pain in her head. She squeezed tighter, concentrating as best she could to make the pain stop, let it disburse, anything to cease the ache.

Suddenly, a defined picture came to her mind, one of an wolf she had known long ago, the image was calming to her thoughts. She thought her certain the pain was done when another spike struck her and she opened her mouth to scream, and scream she did however no sound left her throat... the wolf's warm eyes once again drew her attention and all the pain subsided.

Serica opened her eyes and she gasped the air that lay heavy in her lungs. The day's events became clear to her again and she wondered what had happened on Versai and Night. ~Night didn't kill him... did he?~ She forced the panic from her body and insisted all was fine, although 'Mother' said nothing.

It was not until Serica let her arm fall from its grip on the bed post that she stupidly remembered how badly hurt it was. Wincing slightly she held it tightly at her side and rose from the floor, only to be seated on the bed again. The pain left after she relaxed and supported it with a pillow beside her. With her good arm, Serica reached for the remainder of her now cold dinner. She ate little more of it, disliking the soggy texture of the chicken and peas.

The indent she had made in the bed was uncomfortable but Serica figured she had to wait for Night to return. With little else to do, Serica tried to make sense of everything that had happened. From the moment she had seen the seer in the ruins things within her and all around her were changing rapidly. The image of the wolf from her past dashes across her thoughts but she pushed it away. It was only a dream, right? ~It is said that in dreams... 'wolves' can mean loyalty, fearlessness, and steadfastness while 'running' can mean time is progressing quickly. ~Does that mean I must be more loyal? and to whom? Or perhapses in the upcoming days I need to remain unafraid. No... It feels sooner.~


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Serica sat up in the bed with a start. She had fallen asleep again, how strange, but something in the air around her felt urgent. She adjusted her injured shoulder so the pain was less to speak of. Slipping on her high boots and refastening a throwing knife, Serica readied herself to leave to room again. As a last thought, she wrapped the chicken in a small cloth which laid by the tray and quickly drank a small cup of cider by the door.

Serica knew something wasn't quite right as she paced before the tavern room door and she clasped her fist tightly, the eternal silver ring felt tight around her finger, reminding her of the significance it held.


*An old wolf paced quietly on the edge of the woodlands just behind the Mooncrest tavern and the barn which sat beside it. She had been asked to come here by an old friend she had thought long since dead. Having enough of this waiting Krah called out to her friend, let loose a long drawn out howl which rang softly through the air.*


And that was the que Serica had been waiting for. The strange thing was that the howl sounded to her like it was saying "Come to me." She snatched her cloak as the air thickened with tension and the need to obey. Serica wondered if she might be under a spell but shrugged it off, who was she to deny her instincts like that, anyway.

Serica walked swiftly out of the door, shutting it smoothly behind her. She hastily draped her cloak over her left shoulder to hide her injury. She gracefully sauntered down the stairs and out the tavern, ignoring and dodging anyone or anything in her path. She paused a moment, once outside, uncertain of where she was going but confident she must go.

Serica's movement was casual as she wondered down the dirt street uncertain of where she was going.
As she walked past the stables she could hear the horses, goats, pigs and sheep all in a stir over something. ~Go there.~ ~That must be where Night is.~ she thought quietly and turned quickly to find her way behind the stables.
There, just behind the stables was a small stretch of flat plains and then beyond it, the woods.
Careful to avoid the manure of past horses and chaos of the playing children, Serica found her way past the stables. The plain is about 50 yards long and damp in this season. Serica trumped through the field as delicately as possible and into the woods.
One-two-three steps into the brush line and it suddenly became darker. Serica stopped; uncertainty taking over for a moment. What was she doing looking for a wolf? Perhaps it wasn't too late to turn back- but just then a pair of yellow-gold eyes caught her own.
"Krah..." the sound erupted from her lips unconsciously. Serica froze, so much of her was crying for her to run, to flee, to scream, but those eyes, she knew those eyes... so comforting. They were not the eyes of Night as she had hoped to find, but the calming eyes of her headache.

*Krah stood perfectly still, uncertain that the woman before her was the girl she once knew. Had the years truly passed so quickly? So much of her was the image of Sabriel, there was no mistake. Her hair, her jaw, her posture, her stride, her hands... but many of the experiences that wore on Sabriel were not evident on her offspring. Her eyes too, were all her own, they always had been. Krah smiled and took a few paces forward.*

Serica stared into the eyes of the wolf and felt curiosity and love. She bent her knees to turn and move away but they only buckled and unceremoniously plopped her to the forest floor. She opened her mouth again to speak but no words came out.

*Krah's eyes quickly shift to the figure in the field, bolting toward them. She takes a few strides closer to Serica and nudges her shoulder gently to reassure her that she is safe, understanding her fear if she did not recall the boy she had saved in his wolf form. Her eyes are full of joy as she waits by Serica for Night to greet them.* ~It is good to see you, my manpup.~ *Krah says into Nights mind.*

Serica turns her head to follow Krah's view, placing a hand on the wolf's shoulder. "Night!" she exclaims as her eyes land on the second wolf. Serica is overcome with excitement at the sight of him, so much so, she doesn't notice as her cloak slips from over her shoulder to the forest carpet, exposing her dressed wound. Serica turns around, still on her knees and reaches for him with her uninjured arm.

~I am well. You look well yourself, keeping busy I hope. I see you two have met again. It is good that you have reunited, finally.~ There is an evident grin on Krah's face before Night's second question where curiosity comes into play. ~Did you two have a fight?~ She looks concerned and turns to Serica.

Serica took the opportunity presented to her to rest on Night. His midnight-black fur soft and silly to the touch but still with a dash of wild and grit. She rested only a portion of her weight on him though she knew he could take it all, she had ridden him after all. Serica closes her eyes and runs her fingers through his fur affectionately, grabing a fist full gently in remembrance of the traveling they had done.

~She certainly seems to like you.~ Krah chuckled to herself.