Future, Past and Present

[Israfel Deu Ausgard]

Ooc:: So, this post is kind of like a log of what's been going on from Israfel's view. It'll set the tone for the Order, but anyone is welcome to join if they wish.

I'm sitting here in a daze. I've no idea why I'm here or even how I got here with the exception of what everyone has told me. But even so, how much of it can I believe? I hardly know anyone and what they say...I don't know if I can trust them. After all, all that I do know is that I was fighting against them. I can't seem for form memories of what has happened. The last thing I can remember was Laties helping me to tend to my wounds in the sick bay after having challenged Aden. That fool...his big heart was going to get him in trouble with the King, that I remember. But what happened after that? Why can't I remember anything from then?

My head aches terribly and sometimes my vision deceives me. I see things every once in awhile. A battle, blood, Lord Osirus...A voice sometimes accompanies these pictures. The voice is dark and heavy; its difficult to breathe when these words go through my head. I asked the white haired woman what it meant, and what she said to me didn't make sense and still doesn't. She becomes sad and ashamed, telling me she wasn't able to completely remove it all. Remove what? What happened to me? Why do I keep getting commands from this heavy voice? The woman, Prophet Bassette, is part of the Order of Lumen, I know that. Why am I with the Order? Why were they tending to wounds of mine when I awoke? Was I not sent out to destroy the Order?

Things are so confusing for me right now. Where are Laties and Lourette? Why am I with the Order? And why...every time I attempt to leave this place...I just keep getting called back? Is there something I fear from going back home? What is it? What happened to make me lose time?

I am under heavy surveillance day and night. I have no privacy in what I do and every night, I'm locked up. But during the heat of the desert day, the Prophet allows for me to wander what little this pathetic oasis has to offer. What happened to their village? Why are they roaming? When I had awakened, I had found myself in a wagon, chained to the wooden planks, carefully guarded. But my armor was missing, my chains taken from me and the Prophet at my side. Even despite her immense sadness, though, she managed to care for me despite the hatred and spite the others around here give me.

I understand that I am a knight of Osirus...but I can't seem to bring it within myself to return to the kingdom. I want to find Laties, I need someone to fill in what I'm missing; I need to do something--

"How long are you going to sit out here on that rock? Are you trying to roast yourself?" Dulcimer called down to the green haired Sergeant. From the man's cruel look, Dulcimer could only smirk in distaste. The fool didn't know a thing about the desert and here he was, sitting down there in his tunic and pants, in direct sunlight.

"Lady Bassette didn't save your scrawny ass for you to char it. Besides, she actually thinks a monster like you deserves food. Albeit, I think you deserve less than what our pigs it, but I won't be the one to disappoint her," Dulcimer sighed. He stood there, above the Sergeant sitting below in the outcropping of rocks. The stupid guy was sitting in the middle of the tall wall of rocks, the hot sand reflecting the sun back into the sky. Even though it was fall now, the desert heat never relented. The Sergeant glared at Dulcimer for a moment longer, then went back to scribbling on the piece of parchment in his lap. Dulcimer growled. The Sergeant Israfel was a stubborn and rude fellow. Dulcimer hated seeing him walk around free. He did not think he deserved to be walking with no restrictions. But Bassette had clearly told those around her to allow him room.

Then again, it was probably a good thing. Dulcimer didn't exactly trust the Sergeant to not attack anyone if provoked. Crossing his arms over his chest, Dulcimer cast his eyes to the horizon. Ever since the battle in Amblethorn, the Order and the survivors of that sanctuary were forced to move. The moving was difficult; with several hundred people to guard constantly and very little supplies, keeping the people safe and fed was a massive chore. The wagons they used to travel were crumbling and the animals were quickly dying off. Granted, they had found a small oasis here, but it wouldn't support them for more than a week. The small watering hole was but a puddle compared to the massive water well they had in Amblethorn. Dulcimer felt a pain in his heart when he thought of his lost desert home. At least there, they had been safe from Osirus' laws and restrictions, not to mention bandits and theives. There, Bassette could deal with her ailments gracefully. But moving the immobile and sick Prophet was difficult.

But with Aden missing since the fight, someone had to take over. And even in her time of woe and despair, she still tried to control the nomadic people. They listened to her, believed in her and so Dulcimer believed she was the only one who could give the people hope of finding a new home. But she mourned. She mourned terribly. Baphomet was dead, Aden was missing, Azazeal was still missing, Amblethorn was destroyed, the assassin Draken had returned to the royal family, and a new evil was growing. Her fate was truly a sad one. Often, she cried for her sisters and brothers. Often, she worried for Aden and those of the Order. Often, she had to console those who mourned for the dead and lost in the battle, while not being able to be consoled for herself.

The desert was painful to look at with his heart this heavy. The rolling golden sand hills provided no rest, no reprieve from the scorching sun. And while moving towards the Saynt plains would've provided more food, water and shelter; the closer they got to Du Aurella, the more soldiers looking out for them were. With Queen Marcelle as the new ruling head, the laws became more unbearable, the rules twice as cruel and unrealistic. Dulcimer, or Adrian, hadn't been able to visit his ailing father and mother since the battle took place. It would've been foolish to do so, even with his skills as a spy.

Rolling up the parchment in which he had been writing on, Israfel stood up. His long green hair fell over his shoulders as he turned to look up at Dulcimer standing above him. The man, though looking like a brainless idiot, was actually more stronger than Israfel had once thought. He was Bassette's right hand man for the moment being and he carried himself that was as well. His sky blue tunic was hot against his skin as well as the gray trousers around his legs. How long had he been out here thinking and writing? With a simple leap, he landed next to Dulcimer, both staring at each other coldly now. It was Dulcimer who made it a point every night to chain him up like a wild animal. The Sergeant glared at him for a moment longer, then closed his eyes.

"Food, huh? I guess I shall eat..." Israfel muttered, beginning to walk back to where the caravan was located.

Dulcimer growled as the arrogant Sergeant moved past him. Turning, he walked behind the Sergeant, his hands fisted.

"You'd better feel lucky that Bassette even considers to let you eat, you demon..." Dulcimer growled.

Israfel chuckled, folding his arms over his chest as he walked.
"Demon am I? Tch, I've heard it before, over and over again. You think your petty insults mean anything to me? Come now, Order slave, I would've expected better manners from your kind..." Israfel said, a coy smirk on his face. He could hear Dulcimer growl behind him, but he ignored it as he walked up to the caravan. Covered almost entirely by a canopy of broad leafed trees was the small oasis. The entire oasis was no bigger than a small sized manor. Of the ten or so wagons, only six of them could fit under the tree cover. The watering hole itself was little more than a large puddle. The rocks and grasses that surrounded it had been cleared away so people could drink from the blue waters. However, the stench of rotting fruit was prominent here. So late in the summer, what fruit hadn't been eaten by the wild life had fallen off to rot before the oncoming of winter. The wagons were spaced evenly apart to create small walkways into the caravan. A few tents lay next to the wagons while sleeping mats littered the area next to burn piles.

Walking into the caravan under the shady canopy, Israfel realized just how hot he actually was. But no matter how hot he was, he would've preferred to stay out in the sun. Walking into the caravan meant he would become the center of attention, the pinacle of hate for most of the people in here. All eyes turned to him as he and Dulcimer entered the caravan. All at once, Israfel could feel the burning hatred. For reasons unknown to him, he was spited by almost the entirity of this caravan. While Dulcimer had explained to him what he had done, Israfel didn't believe him. If he had laid waste to that village, he would've surely remembered that. But he didn't care, Bassette had told everyone Israfel was free to do as he pleased as long as it didn't cause anyone harm. The same rules had applied for everyone else. But instead of doing what he wanted, he walked in eggshells. He didn't have his armor, his chains, or his memories. There was no way he was going to attempt anything with this many people against him.

Dulcimer smirked at Israfel's discomfort. Here, Dulcimer had ultimate control. Coming up behind him, he grabbed Israfel's small shoulder and shoved him towards Bassette's wagon. Her wagon was one of the six. Walking towards it, Israfel looked at the weather torn canvas that protected the Prophet from the elements. Without waiting for Dulcimer's approval, Israfel jumped into the opening of the wagon. Dulcimer knew, had Azazeal been there, the Sergeant would have been beheaded right then and there. But he also knew that Bassette's wagon was the only place the green haired man was safe. Climbing in after, he settled on his knees at the entrance of the wagon.

"Welcome Israfel, Dulcimer." The sweet and soft docile tone of Bassette came from the elegant woman sitting in the wagon, her lower body covered by a white blanket. Her long snowy hair was pulled up and away from her neck to keep her cool, her purple eyes looking at them with kindness and sympathy. Israfel took a seat on a small box, crossing his arms over his chest, closing his eyes with a frown.

"Hmph, thanks. I'm starved..." Israfel muttered. Bassette smiled gently and nodded.

"Of course," she said. Looking to Dulcimer, he sighed angrily and backed out of the wagon to retrieve the food. For a long while, the two sat in the wagon in silence. Then Bassette smoothed out her blanket and looked to the green haired Sergeant.

"Israfel, I hope you are feeling better..." she said. Israfel opened his eyes to glance at her, snorted at her comment, then closed his eyes again.

"How long do you plan to keep me a prisoner here?" He asked.
"When do I get my armor and weapons back?"

Bassette looked at him, then giggled gently.
"Israfel, surely you do not think I'm actually keeping you prisoner? Do I not let you wander freely during the day? I know you're more than capable of escaping into the desert of your own free will..." She said, watching as he looked her incredulously. She smiled.

"However, I cannot give you back your armor and chains just yet. After all, you've no real need of them yet. We're currently not in danger and in the past two months you've been with us, you haven't tried to escape...not once." She looked at him. She could see an embarrassed blush forming on his face. Bassette looked upon him lightly, then down to her hands.

"What I hope...to happen is that you'll join us. You've got incredible power and potential. But I fear the dark voice that still calls to you and the desire to find the General Laties keep you from seeing the true light of Lumen." Without warning, Israfel suddenly stood, anger blaring in his face.

"You want me to become an Order slave!? I'm a Knight of Osirus, whether you like it or not and that's all I be! I am obliged to be in his service until I die! That's what's sworn to the knighthood! You'd best keep your mouth shut, woman! I'll never be part of your little family here," Israfel growled. He glared at Bassette, but she was unmoving, stiff and rigid in the face of his anger. She stared at him evenly, testing him. But as much as he wanted to harm her, he couldn't find it in himself. With a growl of anger, Israfel stormed from the wagon. A few moments later, Dulcimer returned, climbing in.

"A little angry was he?" He asked, handing Bassette a platter of food. Bassette sighed as Dulcimer sat next to her. She looked down sadly.

"I fear he still has too much anger inside him. But I do not think he'll return to Du Aurella. I think...he fears that place more than he let's on...for now, we shall let him figure out his own agenda..." She said lowly. Dulcimer shook his head slightly.

"Even in the after math of war, we face such hard times..."

[Aden Vigil]

Two months was hell for the General. The night after the fight had been such an amazing celebration, but Aden had felt lost. It was one of those empty feelings. He knew that he should be caring for those and mourning the dead, which on the outside he appeared to do, but on the inside, he was empty. Osiris was dead. Osiris had died from a freak accident, not from Aden’s blade. The Elf couldn’t count how many people congratulated him on getting so lucky. He had cursed himself for it. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t been the one to finish things. For most people, that would have been the best feeling, but it burned him.

So, he did the one thing that he had been the best at; he left. He wandered out in the middle of the night, after making a single round of his own to kill off anyone that was escaping or any dangers. The part that truly made people worry once they noticed his absence in the morning was that he had taken no rations. The Order needed them and if Aden could travel the right way, he wouldn’t.

He spent the two months far away from the Desert. He spent them visiting old traditional areas and acting like a man who was broken. No one really would understand why he felt so weak right then. Most people would think that the General was over-reacting, but when it came down to things…He was wanted more for less of a reason. He had always been treated like dirt. He had always been stepped on, but when it had been his time to finally step up and let all of his seemingly pointless training get to work, Osiris died in that way. Aden shook his head, just about ready to kill himself at the whole idea of it. He visited his mother’s grave, the first person to treat him like he was nothing. His own mother had never thought that her bastard child really was worth anything.

He knew that before that battle, his little brother had been with Osiris’s side. Now, the red haired Elf had disappeared before he could manage to talk to him. Aden really felt like he was losing that charm that he once had.

Though, the day he took back was probably the worst of his life. He knew that he was still needed with the Order; he knew he would get those looks again…Though; he wanted to check on The Prophet. She saved them before this had started. He stood at the edge of the desert, some extra provisions latched to a fresh horse for the Order. Well, more than some provisions. He was going to try and help them in return for leaving. The looks would kill him. Though, people would hopefully be happy to see him, he looked different…Almost like he had lost himself in the battle.

His once blonde hair was a brown now. It wasn’t from dirt or anything, but he had gotten it changed. The style was shorter, but the bangs remained the same. He didn’t know why he had wanted the change of hair color, but it worked for him and he hoped that it wouldn’t make people gawk. He doubted that he would be safe from that.

He clenched the silver necklace, still bloodstained, and nudged the horse into a quick pace. He leaned low, trying to keep it easy for the horse. Slowly, the caravan came into sight…They had moved quicker than he really thought…Though, he remembered this place. They were right near where Dulcimer had found him months ago. It was so weird to think of that world, where things were nice and happy. Those poor twins!

Aden slowed the horse and slipped off to give it some water. He petted it as gingerly as he could, but his jaw was set in place at he thought of those twins…Damn Osiris!

He didn’t move towards them anymore for a while. He stayed out of sight and watched Dulcimer with Israfael…Or whatever that man’s name was. He had heard about the whole deal with him, but he hadn’t realized how much people hated him until he saw him walking free.

It almost made Aden pity the male.

Though, he held back his gag reflex at the thought of pitying such a man. There was no way that he would do such a thing. He waited until after the man had stormed out from, presumably, the Prophet’s tent before he nudged the animal towards the group. At first, he was rushed by men who were armed and ready to fight, but as soon as they saw the same eyes that the General carried, they dropped their weapons and rushed him, taking the reigns from him and letting him slip off the animal. He smiled weakly at them and managed to put on a similar face.

“Hello, sorry for my absence. I’ll be sure to explain myself later, though I brought gifts. I found more rations, more fresh water and obviously a fresh horse to fill in for one that may be lost soon.” Aden said as he bowed to them. They looked at each other in such a confused expression. They should be thanking him for being back, so why was he apologizing?

“S-sir?”

“Name’s Aden, men.” He said as he moved towards the area. He took the way that would avoid the once-possessed General. People were staring at him, but once the men explained his gift, they were cheering. He was glad to be back, but he wasn’t happy about being in the spotlight. It was one of those things that had always driven him mad.

He moved towards the Prophet’s tent though. He talked along the way, obviously having been the high-light of these people’s day. He was smiling, glad to be back and also glad to see how well they had taken to being without the man that they had set as their leader. They talked about Dulcimer being their leader while he was gone and he smirked. That male was certainly a lot better and stronger than he seemed. Aden looked down at his scars with sigh, such a waste of a battle and of lives.

He moved into the tent of the Prophet and looked at Dulcimer.

“Hello.” He said calmly as he seated himself a bit away from the Prophet. He did have his hand on the weapon, not wanting to be caught off guard if he wasn’t recognized right away. He knew that the color would throw some people off. “So, do I get to explain myself again for leaving, or am I excused? I brought presents.” He said calmly. He was trying to bring some sort of humor back to this. Even if he wasn’t supposed to.

“How are you feeling, Lady Bassette?” He asked curiously. He hoped she was feeling better, but that was a serious topic, ever since Azazeal disappeared sometime around the battle.

[Prophet Bassette]

Bassette hadn't even felt him. Perhaps it was her body; so sick and frail, or her mind; so full of sorrow and pain, that she hadn't even sensed Aden coming. Her powers had weakened and waned terribly since the battle right along with her body and soul. And even when the gasps of shock and awe rang through the caravan, she hardly had taken notice. But when the canvas had separated, allowing a flash of light into the dimmed tent revealing the most beautiful sight she had seen in a long time, it was as if something in her exploded. Almost before she could stop them, tears of delight began welling up and pouring over her long lashes. Aden is back...Aden is safe! The brown hair and changed appearance didn't deter her. She knew Aden; she knew his eyes, his soul, his aura. For a moment, all of her sorrow of losing Baphomet, Azazeal, and the lives of those in the war vanished momentarily.

"A-Aden!"

For a brief moment, Dulcimer stared at this random man who had just barged into the tent. He had no recollection of anyone looking like this man and he had almost drawn a knife from his belt when the man spoke.

“So, do I get to explain myself again for leaving, or am I excused? I brought presents.” Dulcimer blinked, his face dropping from attack mode to shocked. He hadn't seen Aden in such a time it was hard for his mind to wrap around the General's new looks. Dulcimer had once been angered by Aden's abandonment and he had sworn he would pound Aden into the ground if and when he came back. But having to help Bassette run the caravan and keeping her healthy had sucked the spite out of him. Quickly sheathing his knife, he sat back on his knees again.

"Aden...its really you..." He muttered numbly.

Bassette could feel the tears slipping down her pale cheeks freely. A bright smile graced her pale lips as she quickly tried to wipe the tears from her face. But the happy droplets came faster than she could wipe them away.

"Aden, oh Aden...I'm so happy you're back! I've missed you so!" She said, patting a spot next to her.

"You must come here, I must lay my hands upon you to make sure you're not some illusion!" She said, giggling lightly.

[Aden Vigil]

He looked at Dulcimer before moving towards Lady Bassette. He pulled his hands from his weapons and gently placed a hand over the Prophet’s. “I’m truly sorry for leaving so suddenly. This time, it wasn’t the whole self issue I’ve talked about with you before. I needed to actually visit my mother.” He said suddenly. He looked at the ground, forcing himself through it, “Just so many mixed emotions.” Though, he was holding her hand lightly. He was worried that she would break.

He looked over at Dulcimer. “Yea, it’s my. I’m sorry for pushing you into Leadership. You’re welcome to take a stab?” He said opening his arms. He kept his hand right next to Lady Bassette’s though. After all, he didn’t want her to think that he had suddenly left her and that he had been an illusion. He knew how fragile she was right now. He knew what she had done for the possessed man that Osiris had commanded. He gently held her hand and looked over at her every once and a while. She was worrying him. “Lady Bassette, I am worried about your health, though.” He said as he glanced between Dulcimer and her.

He listened outside and said, “I know I have no right to say this, but what’s been happening around here lately?” He wanted to make sure that people were going to not want to kill him for basically abandoning them again. He really didn’t want to do it, but it was hard for him not to. He felt like he wasn’t going to be able to keep leading them at one point.

He thought back to Osiris’s comment about maybe having had him as his General…Had he been born under a different star…There was a new story that came with that one. He shook his head, wondering if he would ever be able to think clearly again. The battle had seemed to shake the world.

[Prophet Bassette]

As Dulcimer showed the palms of his hands to Aden showing that he meant the General no harm, Bassette took Aden's hand in both of hers. For a moment, she simply held his hand, feeling for the signs of battle and hardship. Then, she held it close to her, holding on with what might she had. For a moment, she simply sat like that, holding on to him as if fearing he might be whisked away with the wind. Then, while trying to gain control of her crying, she looked back up at Aden, shaking her head with a pale smile, her hair falling over her shoulders.

"Oh Aden...you can't possibly imagine how happy I am to see you," she said, looking up at him like a mother who would to her son who had just returned home after spending years away. Though it was only a few months, Bassette could not contain her happiness.

“Lady Bassette, I am worried about your health, though. I know I have no right to say this, but what’s been happening around here lately?” Bassette stared at him as he spoke. After a moment, she closed her eyes slowly.

"Aden, please do not worry for me. I'm simply old and tired," she said with a low chuckle. Opening her eyes again, she looked towards Dulcimer who knelt quietly on his knees, his hands in his lap.

"So much has happened since the Day of Lacrima...After you left and we picked up what remained in Amblethorn, we had no choice but to move deeper into the desert. Not long after the night you left, Dulcimer found out that Marcelle was taking Osirus spot on the throne. But she is mad. The grief over her husband has created a beast...she's no control over her emotions and inhibitions...The laws were just to impossible and the guards kept coming around...so we moved on," she said, as Dulcimer shifted on his knees. "We salvaged what we could of the food and water...but we didn't last long. The women and children can barely get enough to drink and the men are worse off. They save their water up for their families. We've lost so many men to heat stroke and dehydration..." She paused, feeling the emotion of sadness quickly filling her chest. Just when she thought the happy tears would stop, new, sorrowful ones took their place.

Dulcimer slowly stood up, coming over to Bassette's other side. He put an arm around her and hugged her close as sobs began to erupt from her. Dulcimer looked to Aden with his dark blue eyes.

"We've lost quite a few men. She was so worried for you...So far, we haven't come across a watering hole that could sustain us for more than a few weeks at best. Bandits and thieves are beginning to become a problem as well. Thank Lumen you brought us another horse...the steeds we have left are all but starving. Aden...things have been terrible since you left. There are rumors that Marcelle is composing a new, more deadlier team of Knights. Apparently, however, we weren't the only ones who suffered badly. They couldn't find the blood thirsty General Takashe or Osirus' adviser. They're assumed to be dead," Dulcimer said, stroking Bassette's long hair. After a moment, Bassette's sobs seemed to ebb away. Dulcimer looked down at Bassette and gently moved a strand of hair from her face, noticing the peaceful look it had taken on.

"She's asleep..." He whispered, holding her tightly. After a moment, he gently lay her down, moving her hair from her face. Looking up at Aden, he motioned for him to follow as Dulcimer exited Bassette's tent.

[Lourette]

A streak of white hopped across the rolling dunes, back and forth, one after the other, kicking up a wake of sand each time her legs moved and propelled her forth. Finally, the viera, the one who once sided with the mad king Osirus, landed before Aden. Surprisingly enough, the woman who was once the second-highest ranking soldier in Osirus' army knelt down before the elf, a sign of loyalty to the Order (or what remained of it). She needed to find Laties, and since Osirus was gone, she knew good and well she wasn't going back to Du Aurella. At least, not while Marcelle ruled.

That would be pure hell.

"So far, I haven't seen any bandits around. There was the occasional nomad scavenging for food, but, as for anything that would prove a threat, I haven't seen anything..." she spoke, her voice hushed (as to not wake the sleeping prophet). "But I did, however, see two particularly interesting creatures flying this way..."

A loud cawing noise and the flapping of wings sounded outside the wagon. Thirty seconds after, a pair entered. The first was no more than a boy in his late teens. His shoulder-length white hair was messily cropped (apparently he had cut it himself) and his nezpince were fixed on the bridge of his nose. Though his white tunic and black pants badly wrinkled and dusty, he was certainly quite attractive. And the second was a face everyone would know (and some would love...).

Though it seemed the Lustful Prophet hadn't changed much during those two months, there were some differences. Her hair had grown much longer, now at the middle of her thighs, and her left eye (strangely enough) had gone from a bright, glittering gold to a dull blue.

She had gone blind in that eye.

Despite that, she still wore those revealing, short, ornate robes, dripped with onyx jewelry, and had her lips and nails painted a stark black. Her feline ears were pointed forward, her long, furry tail swished back and forth, and a smirk formed on her beautiful face as she noticed her sister in such a blissful sleep.

She wanted to say something, but with her sister sleeping, she...she didn't want to awaken her.

My sister... the prophet thought, feeling herself tear up, Seeing you like this... Biting her lip, the feline woman turned around. "I apologize for bothering you..." she quickly said, turning around and stepping outside, Lucian following right after.

"Lady Freya? What...what are you doing?" he asked.

Freya simply sat down before the large pool of water that so many, man and beast, were drinking from. Leaning forward, she stared down at her reflection, then, with one slender finger, tapped the water, watching the ripples twist and distort her porcelain face.

"Everyone has changed...Though it was only two months, it seems everything has changed..."

Lucian wanted to do something to comfort his mistress in her...whatever phase she happened to be going through now...

Freya gritted her teeth and splashed the water, breaking her reflection. Tears flowing down her face, the prophet leaned back, staring up at the azure sky.

"I can't believe I've missed so much..."

[Aden Vigil]

Aden gently placed his other hand over her’s as she squeezed it. “Bassette, I’m here to stay. As stupid as it sounds, I figured out what I needed to and I promise, I won’t leave the Order for any more time periods in this life.” He said as he pulled the chain from his shirt. He took one hand away to clasp at the pendent, while the other kept his eyes locked on Lady Bassette. He softed as she seemed to fall asleep. As Dulcimer took hold of her, he let his hand slip from her grasp. He gently took the necklace off and placed it around her neck before following Dulcimer. He didn’t need that reminder anymore.

He looked over to the once Knight leader. He smiled at the sign of loyalty and said, "Thank you very much. I'm glad to see you're ok. You really did help us in the battle and I never got a chance to personally thank you." He said as he bowed in return to her. He felt that people who had earned respect, deserved it.

“Dulcimer.” He said calmly, his face set in stone, “I want you to explain to me what’s been happening with the Knights and the Royalty side.” He said simply. The blades that hung by his side swung dangerously as he purposely steered their walk towards the water hole. Dulcimer was right, it was pathetic.

Aden looked across in time to see another Prophet in pain. He looked between Dulcimer and the Prophet, his eyes closed in slight aggravation, but most of it at the change in what was happening. He looked at her carefully, the expression that was well known crossing his features for a second before a child’s call drew his attention away. He glanced to his left to see one of those children that he had been watching before this whole thing started.

He knelt down and smiled at the boy. He was small, looking weaker than he should have been, but there was one thing that worried him the most. He had bandages around his chest. The boy walked over to Aden and he looked at him carefully. “You died your hair.” Aden nodded and pressed something into his hand before standing up and pushing the child gently away. He felt very naked without his pendent, but it had always been a source of strength for him, even while fighting Osiris and he hoped that all of the things that he could do when he had the necklace on would give her some semblance of strength.

He looked over at Dulcimer and said strongly, “I need you to tell me everything. I am going to seriously take up helping people. The first thing that needs to be done is to find a way to the Eten Took Village, but it’ll need to be done in smaller groups than this.” He said as he looked around. He was hesitant in taking complete control, but he would voice his opinions quickly and strongly. It was just what he had always done.

He looked over at the Prophet, his eyes drawn to the new chance in the left one. “Prophet Freya? Lucian?” He said gently. He would have clasped his necklace, but he was hoping that it would lend it’s strength to Lady Bassette. He stayed quiet for the moment being, giving others the chance to speak.

His eyes closed as he let the sun beat down on himself. He wasn’t sure how, but he seriously had forgotten how bad the heat could really be.

How had he managed that?

[Adrian "Dulcimer"]

Dulcimer was slightly startled when suddenly Lourette showed up. Hmph, hadn't been expecting that... he thought to himself as the Viera reported to Aden. For a moment, Dulcimer stared at the woman for some time. He felt he knew her. As his mind worked, trying to come up with the information he knew he had. Dulcimer had kept tabs on Osirus' Knights for months. That's right! She's one of them. She used to be part of his army with the Sergeant Israfel and General Laties.... Dulcimer waited until Aden had finished speaking to her before he glanced back to Aden. As they walked, Dulcimer kept glancing over his shoulder to the woman. I wonder if I should tell her...Israfel is here, but I don't know what kind of relation they have, he thought to himself. But as Aden steered the direction to the water hole, Dulcimer was quickly called upon the man to spill what information he did have. Frowning, Dulcimer thought to himself how hard it had been for him to even gain a single moment's time to spy on the Royal family. Not only was it frustrating for him, but it also meant he didn't have much for the returning General. Sighing, Dulcimer reached up as he scratched the back of his scraggly head. Dulcimer, much like most of the caravan, wasn't looking his best. A few mild scars from the battle; his war torn clothes tattered and loose, his long blond hair which he took such pride in was now long and untamed. He had lost some muscle mass from the lack of food, but otherwise, he seemed to fair better than some.

"Well..." he began uneasily. "There isn't much I can tell you. After all, when you left, Bassette and I had to take charge of the survivors. This being the case, my job as a spy was sort of put on hold. Not to mention the unreal security and laws Marcelle has implemented since the death of Osirus. Its incredibly hard to get anywhere near the castle. What few friends I did have with my same job were either all imprisoned or captured by death in some form or manner. But what I do know..." He paused as they came upon the mourning and suffering Prophet. Is that...could she be one of Lady Bassette's sisters? As Aden's attention was momentarily captured by the young boy, he took the moment to scan the area under the canopy. There, somewhat shaded by a wagon was Israfel with his arms crossed over his chest. Seeing him now, he was covered from Lourette's sight. Dulcimer cleared his throat and just as he had hoped, Israfel looked up. Dulcimer nodded to the side, hoping Israfel would inspect his sign.

“I need you to tell me everything. I am going to seriously take up helping people. The first thing that needs to be done is to find a way to the Eten Took Village, but it’ll need to be done in smaller groups than this.” Dulcimer quickly looked back to Aden, frowning.

"E-Eten Took? Are you serious? You want to move this whole caravan across Alyssus without gaining Marcelle and her army's attention? I mean...I know its our last safe haven...but the whole reason we delved deeper into the desert was to get as far from her as possible...But I guess you're right...its the last place we can turn to and its not like this is turning out any better for us here in the desert..." Dulcimer said, sighing. After a moment, he nodded, running a hand through his dirty hair.

"You're right, but I need to warn you...Marcelle is gathering new and powerful Knights. Now, I haven't heard of a General yet, but its rumored that they're not only human, but it seems Marcelle might even be making exceptions for Shade...now its just a rumor...but that could be very bad for us. A Shade as a General of the Knights..." Dulcimer shook his head.

"I really don't like the thought of that. Anyway, she's got a crazy amount of guards and soldiers wandering around Arioles and Ze Marr..." He said, stopping as Aden turned his attention to the Prophet and her retainer.

Israfel frowned as Dulcimer gave him the signal. Just what the hell is he up to now? Israfel wondered. But instead of investigating, he simply closed his eyes and stood there, his back against the itchy dry wood of the wagon. But as he stood there, his curiosity began to gain the better of him. Growling in anger, he stood up quickly, putting his hands on his hips as he turned around the corner of the wagon to see just what Dulcimer had pointed at. It was then he saw her. A woman he recognized. For a moment, he could only frown as he wondered just what was she doing here? Was she not a Knight of Osirus like he? Why was she here and why was the Order not attacking her? And if she was here, was Laties with her as well?

As these questions crossed his mind, he found that his feet had begun to work for themselves. As he slowly approached the woman, he looked at her cautiously, as if not knowing what to make the situation.

"Lourette?"

[Lourette]

Lourette had been wandering about the oasis aimlessly, her ears shading her face from the sun as she stared up at the bright blue sky.

"Lourette?"

The viera's ears, which were flopped over in front of her face, perked up, and she whirled around to face the familiar face.

"...Isra? What...what are you doing here?" she asked, her eyes wide with disbelief. "I haven't seen you in months!" On impulse, the woman ran forward and embraced her green-haired friend. "It's good to see you again..." she murmured.

Stepping back, Lourette brushed her veil off and smiled. "Have yo seen Laties? I've been scouring Alyssus for him! He disappeared about two and a half months ago...and I've been looking for him ever since..."

That was, of course a lie, since for the past two months or so, she'd been sticking around with the Order. And she planned to do just that as long as Marcelle was at the throne...

Freya, who had been sitting in front of the pool of water in silence, slowly turned to see Aden and smiled. "Aden...it's been a while, hasn't it?" she asked. "How has the Order been faring?" The smile quickly faded as she turned back to the water. "How has Bassette been? How long has she been like that?" The feline prophet had to bite down on her tongue to keep from crying. It seemed to be all her fault...

Lucian, who listened to his mistress, looked at her in utter disbelief. Her fault? For her sister's declining health? Not possible. Not true.

Freya had definitely changed. And Lucian wasn't really sure he liked it.

[Takashe]

"Soon, my darling Takashe, you will surrender yourself to me; the dark magics coursing through your veins are already starting to take effect. A new chapter in your life is about to begin."

Seventeen long years had passed since those honeyed words passed through his ears. He had been discussing a business venture with Eltana that fateful evening, completely unaware that his partner had sinister intentions in mind. The next thing he knew the effeminate man had infiltrated his mind with a dark spell, trying to shatter his sanity and reduce him to an unquestioning puppet. Still grieving over the death of his father, he was in no state to resist the mental onslaught.

For the next seventeen years he was consumed by madness, entirely aware of his despicable actions, but unable to stop them. He watched helplessly as Eltana ordered him to beat his own family to a pulp, to toss the numerous letters from his old childhood friend into the fireplace. For ages he had dreamed of vengeance against the wicked sorcerer, and soon he would have it.

And contrary to what his former master believed, he was very much alive, and on his way to meet with Prophet Bassette, intent on telling her all he had leaned during his time with Eltana.

He stood atop a dune overlooking the caravan, looking down on it with sorrowful eyes. How could he even think of approaching them after all he had done? He fought against them on the Day of Lacrima, killing so many innocent people and devouring their flesh like a hungry animal. They would undoubtedly try to kill him as soon as they recognized him, but he didn't care. He doubted he could live with his guilt much longer; he longed for the sweet release of death.

Taking a deep breath and calling upon all of his courage, he slowly began walking toward the caravan. When he arrived his mysterious appearance attracted the eyes of many people surrounded the wagon. He was wearing a dark brown cloak that concealed most of his body, save for the lower half of his face. The right side of the cloak was torn to sheds, revealing a bandaged stump that was once his right arm. He had lost it in the scuffle with Nikanoru that ensued shortly after they vanished.

When he reached the wagon, he stuck his head in and frowned nervously. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to intrude... But may I have a word? I have some news concerning the Knights of Osirus you might be interested to hear," he spoke softly, the murderous edge his voice once held replaced by a disarming gentleness.

[Aden Vigil]

Aden turned to look at Dulcimer, his expression almost deadly for a second, “It’s insane, I know that, but we can do it slowly and steadily. If we are moving to an unknown place and it seems like for the moment the Order is broken up, they’ll be smart and stay back, or they’ll be stupid. I have a feeling if they are going to go for any group, it would be for the one that I am leading. After all, the price on my head increased tenfold, since they seem to think I am more at blame for Osiris’s death than the behemoth that fell on him.” Aden said calmly. He shook his head, clearing the brown hair away from it. He kept feeling like he needed a good bath and that he was covered in grime, but it would pass.

“I’ve figured she would do that. Though, it seems that she really isn’t in control anymore. She’s lost herself in history from what I’ve heard.” He said simply. He had gotten a few people inside, but they had told him that it was their death wish that they were going. After all, they had ended up in the Blood Chamber, along with the hundreds of others who didn’t do much to deserve going in there. “No one likes the idea of a Shade for a General, but it would take a mad one to be it. You saw what happened last time to their mad General, so this one wouldn’t fair much better.” He commented. He had noticed that all of her positions had been refilled.

There was a new person there that really interested him now, but that wasn’t anything to be concerned about. Aden pushed a hand through his head as he turned to Dulcimer. He offered a smile and said, “Dulcimer, I can’t thank you enough for taking care of all of these people.” He did owe the spy big time, but there were more important things than paying him back right now…sadly.

Aden turned his attention back to Freya and sighed softly. He knelt next to her and gave a weak smile, “Freya, it has been a while. From what I can see, the Order has been fairing fine, but you have Dulcimer over there to thank for that.” He watched her sudden drop in mood and he cast his eyes to the ground. He knew Lady Bassette’s health had been failing her since before the whole final battle thing. She had just spent so much on saving the possessed man. He personally almost found it useless, but he did agree that all people were allowed a second chance and so far, if this man was allowed to walk free, than he had not done a thing wrong yet.

“Lady Bassette…I’m sorry to say that her health has been failing her since before the whole battle. She’s a strong woman though. She risked herself to save a possessed man and even if her body fails her, she’ll be safe in spirit. She’s done so much good for everyone.” He gently placed his hand on Freya’s shoulders and asked, “How have you been Lady Freya? I truly am sorry for how our last private meeting ended.” He said softly, having never gotten the chance to say that. He meant every word of it though. After all, Tallan shouldn’t have burst in like that.

Speaking of that woman, she had disappeared too…So many of the people that had once helped him lead this Order were gone. A pained look crossed his face for a second before he withdrew his hand. He offered her a gentle smile and stood. He didn’t know what to do at the moment. He knew that he needed to walk around and talk to some of the Order’s families, but Freya looked so broken, so unlike herself. It was such a sad sight.

Though, it wasn’t pitiful, he could never pity a prophet.

He turned back towards the wagon and saw a man look into Lady Bassette’s wagon. After seeing her condition and seeing how hurt her sister was over the whole deal, he wasn’t going to let him go in there alone.

“Hey, Lady Bassette is sleeping at the moment. Come on over here.” His voice was strict, but he was worried about the woman. He stood strong, making sure that the other male walked over here before he did anything else. Aden even took the moment to move him two steps closer, in case the male try anything. He had adapted Azazeal’s protectiveness over the Lady.

[Israfel Deu Ausgard]

It was so odd. The touch, the smell, the voice and even the appearance of Lourette had been so foreign to him up until this moment. It was as if his memory had been stuck in a limbo where nothing registered, nothing make forth or was absorbed. As Lourette released him from his hug, he looked up at the tall woman. There was one thing he did remember and it was that both of them were Knights. So where was her armor? Why was she here? Was she still not loyal to Osirus? Nothing was making sense anymore. And then her question...

"Have yo seen Laties? I've been scouring Alyssus for him! He disappeared about two and a half months ago...and I've been looking for him ever since..." This question slammed a cold fist of shock in his stomach. For a moment, Isra looked up at her, his voice caught in his throat, simply staring at her with a blank look in his face. Taking a deep breath, he cast his eyes to the sand, his brows furrowed as he struggled to think of an answer that made sense.

"I...I don't know...I haven't seen him...The last time I remember seeing him..." Two months. I knew it had been two months that I stayed with this caravan, but...what about the time before? It was only early summer in my early memories... Isra frowned and brought a hand to his head.

"The last time I saw him...was at the banquet when I told Osirus I didn't bring him the sword...I...I don't remember anything after that," he muttered. Looking up to her, he frowned.

"Lourette...what's happened? I mean...I know Osirus is dead...but...are we no longer Knights? I-I don't understand anything anymore..." He said, looking down.

Dulcimer took a deep breath and sighed, closing his eyes.
"Alright, alright. Well...if you promise to stay put this time, I could attempt an intel mission and see what else I can get for you," he said, even if Aden was busy talking to someone else, following the General as he moved from person to person.

[Takashe]

Takashe looked over his shoulder when he heard someone call out to him and found Aden staring back at him, not looking too pleased. It didn't take him long to recognize him as the esteemed leader of the Order of Lumen. Having heard that he disappeared shortly after his final duel with Osirus, he hadn't expected to find him traveling with the caravan. Needless to say it was a pleasant surprise, for the Order would be able to fare much better against Marcelle and her knights under his guidance.

As he walked toward Aden, he noticed a familiar face loitering around the general. It was the young man he had engaged in battle with moments before a misdirected spell broke Eltana's hold over him; the man he spoke with in his brief moment of clarity, trying to tell him as much as he could before Eltana managed to take control of him again. Seeing him alive and well, even if he was a tad disheveled, brought a small smile to his hidden face.

He bowed his head in respect when he reached Aden, his shame over what he had done against the general and his comrades so great that he could not look him in the eyes. "Greetings, General Vigil. I come bearing news of dire importance; news concerning a conspiracy within Marcelle's ranks and the identity of Prophet Baphomet's murderer. We must speak hastily, for I fear I may be endangering you all by being here."

Indeed, his presence there was likely placing the entire caravan in great danger. For all he knew the spell Eltana had placed on him those many years ago could reactivate at any moment, reverting him back into a bloodthirsty monster. Still, it was a risk he had to take. If worse came to worse, he was certain the Order would be able to kill him before he could do any serious damage.