The Forgotten Zodiac

"Perhaps he got caught in the flames," Cyprus said, saddened at the very thought. "He was always such a quiet and obedient deer..."

Werr looked towards Seria, puzzled. "What is he saying?" He questioned, ultimately confused. "You can understand him, right? I heard you talking to him earlier..."

Seria nodded, saying "He...he's talking to that big wolf. They can communicate. They're talking about some of the other animals."

Malu'urim was not fazed by Cyprus' words. "Who cares? He was a rediculous deer. If he burns, he burns, and there is no problem for the Windfall Pack." He turned away with a snort, eyeing Werr for a long moment before shifting his gaze to Luen. He curled his lip slowly, then said "That one...you'd be best slitting his throat now, Lord of Life. He will bring you ruin."

Then he curled up with his pack.

"I care. And I'm not slitting anyone's throat," Cyprus mumbled, shaking his head and looking away.

Forin sat bolt upright, eyes wide. "Hey, you," Forin snapped, nudging the Gryphon he was with and silently cursing her aversion to telling him her name. "HEY! Wake up!" He yelled. "There's a fire nearby! We've gotta get out of this grass, or we'll burn to death!" Of course, he had no idea that the Morrow Plains stretched for miles, and they were on the far end of it. If they ran west, they'd run headfirst into Herrace territory. If they ran east, they'd find a few Bulliete settlements, and soon after, the capital again. Both directions would have them engulfed by flames, however; the forest that the fire had started in was to the north. The only direction they could run was south, which only held more and more Morrow grass. And directly after that, the mountains, which were impossible to climb without proper equipment.

Zelana screeched awake, shaking her feathers and glancing up in shock in the direction the fire was burning in. She didn't waste breath on words; she pushed under Forin, forcing him onto her back, and leapt high, arching in the opposite direction of the flames. Her wings, which were large and beautiful like Jag's had been (before they had been cut off), beat the air powerfully as she darted up into the sky, determined to get away from the flames.

Forin immediately pushed himself forward, gripping tightly with his legs and pushing his face into her feathers. Part of it was for aerodynamacy; the other half was the fact that he couldn't hold on with his arms. Therefore, he made it easier to keep from slipping off, this way. His injured arm, which was pinned underneath him, throbbed with pain that made Forin want to scream. It was infected, alright, and it wasn't exactly the 'just put a bandage on it and keep it clean' type. It was more of a, 'you have a few more hours before the fever sets in' kind of infection. It was already starting to excrete pus, which was nasty and hard to clean off due to the lack of a water source. Thankfully, Forin had thought to (have Zelana help him) wrap the cut in a makeshift bandage before sleeping, so it wasn't seeping all over her feathers right now.

Zelana flew onwards, panting a bit. Forin was heavy, she wouldn't lie about that, but it was managable. Once they had gotten a decent head-start over the flames, she landed and ran on the ground for a while. Finally, she slowed, padding along quietly. She would run again when she had the strength.

((Forin would be able to sense Vorpal nearby, where he was thrown into a pit.))

Forin sat up, looking around. "Wait, girl," He said, slipping off of her back. "Rest here for a bit, I need to...get something." He said, his eyes locked on a certain direction. He darted off before she could object.

He slid to a stop, nearly falling into the deep pit. "Goddess above, how am I supposed to get down there..." He muttered, looking around. He turned his gaze downward again. "Vorpal, wake up! Please tell me I'm not crazy and I'm sensing things right..."

There was a weak, muffled sob from the darkness at the bottom of the pit, then Vorpal's voice floated up.

"M-Master...F-Forin?" There was a quick attempt to get the last tremors and sobs out of his throat, then the sword called "It's a-about time you got here! I've been waiting for...d-days!" He sniffled, praying Forin couldn't hear him crying, then tried to say something else and just ended up sniffling again. "I th-thought...you th-threw me away..." he said quietly, sounding weak and sad.

"Vorpal, I've felt like I lost an arm! How dare you suggest such a thing!" Forin snapped. Though really, he felt like he had lost three; Vorpal, and his two that didn't work properly at the moment. "I would never throw you away. They knocked you out of my hand before I could wake you up, and they dragged us all to a warzone, of all places! And now it's on fire. Skies above...just hold on, okay? I'll get you out of here," He said quickly, moving away again.

"Gryphon! I need your help. A friend of mine is stuck at the bottom of a pit, I can't reach him on my own, I need your help!" He said desperately, bursting out of the bushes where he had left the gryphon girl who he didn't know the name of.

"Stop calling me 'gryphon'!" she snapped, then ruffled her feathers and said "My name is Zelana." She trotted forward when he wanted, however, knowing they had to move quickly. She glanced down into the pit, then said "I don't smell anyone in here. But if you insist." She let him on when he asked it, then flew gracefully down into the bottom of the pit, where the slender, discarded form of Vorpal was laying.

Zelana sniffed around, then said "There's nobody down here! You're senses are completely wacky, Tartaran. It's just that old sword."

"Old?!" Vorpal snapped, nearly flipping in his rage.

Zelana froze in horror at the sight of a talking weapon, especially when the weapon started crying when Forin touched it.

((Your, not you're. : P))

Forin just barely managed to get his fingers to close around Vorpal's hilt. "Alright, let's go," He said quietly. "Yes, Zelana, this is my friend and weapon, Vorpal. Thank goodness he still has his sheath on him, or I would have problems. I can't carry him around too much with my arms like this...let's just go, before the fires catch up to us," He said, urging Zelana upwards again.

((I saw that after I hit post. xD))

She squawked, still eyeing Vorpal fearfully, then flew upwards and arched into the air, heading away from the fire once more. They flew, again until she was tired, where she had to rely on her legs to carry her. She was very tired by this time, her thin tongue drooping out of her beak. When they came to a river, she paused for a long drink.

Forin slid off of her back, knowing how much of a burden he was being at this point. He worked slowly with his stiff arms, managing to get Vorpal around his waist again. He was starting to get feeling back in the arm he had initially considered dead. Thank goodness for that. But...it hurt. A lot. Forin wasn't too sure how much longer he would last. He could already feel a chill, which didn't make sense, because the air was stiff and hot this evening. He quickly realized that he was running a fever. Forin took a long drink before pushing his face into the water, trying to ward off some of his own heat. He was quick to return to the air again, shaking water out of his hair. "Ugh...how are you holding up, Zelana? Thanks for telling me your name, by the way..."

"I'm doing better than you are, sadly," she said, still panting heavily. "Here, let me see what I can do for that arm of yours." When he moved over, she took human form and gently unbound the wound, staring for a long moment. Then she took gryphon form and carefully moved her sharp beak close, saying "I'll cut it open. It's better for the sickly, infected blood to drain out. If I had something hot enough, I could burn the infection out..." She shook her head, then looked to him, as if for permission to do anything.

Vorpal had stopped crying and was now utterly silent. Not a hum, not a buzz...nothing. He was still awake, Forin could tell, but just...quiet.

Forin thought long and hard about it. Then he nodded, letting out a sigh. "Cut it open. Just be careful not to cut too deep, or we won't be able to stop the bleeding, and my time on this world will be drastically shortened." He sighed and shook his head, looking down at his side. "Where are your complaints, Vorpal? Have you lost your tongue or something?"

Zelana nodded, then settled her sharp beak over the wound and gave a swift, narrow bite. Her beak cut easily through his skin and flesh, tearing the wound open. It wasn't deep, like Forin had warned, and blood immediately began flowing from the wound. Zelana took human form, putting her fingers on his arm and giving a careful push, working more of the tainted blood up to the surface.

Vorpal was quiet for a moment more, then said "I am merely...thinking, Master Forin. Thinking about...many things." He gave a slight hum, then went silent again. He spoke again after a long moment.

"You...have seen me in a state none before have ever seen. I believe...that was the first in my short lifespan that I have ever cried. I still do not quite understand what, exactly, that was, but...now I just feel...odd." He was quiet again, then suddenly snapped "That's what it was! Crying is a trap! Now I've lost my killing edge and ruthless cunning! Curse those tears! Curse them to the great darkness!"

Forin sighed. "No, Vorpal. Crying is not a trap, nor does it show weakness. I thought you lacked the emotions needed to genuinely cry, being a sword and whatnot, but apparently I was incorrect. Vorpal, tears have their place. If Luen or Diana were to be seriously harmed, and there was nothing I could do about it, I myself would probably cry. It doesn't show weakness, it shows compassion. You were crying because you thought that I had left you behind. That doesn't show weakness, it shows that you cared enough about me to be upset when you thought I was gone." He flinched and nearly pulled away from Zelana, but he sat still and quietly suffered the pain she was causing. It was for the better...right?

Vorpal was quiet again for a long moment, then he said "I...was scared. Though I don't like to admit it, I was. I feared that the one I had been created for had abandoned me to live alone in the bottom of that dark pit. I feared I had done something to anger you. Without you, I could go nowhere! You are the only one that can hold me. I would've slipped into an endless sleep and...died. Yes, a weapon can die. When it breaks, it becomes worthless to the owner, and instead of fixing them, they cast the pieces aside and take up another. It hurts the weapon, and their passion dies. For though other weapons cannot speak like I can, it does not mean they cannot 'live'." He was quiet again, then said "I was afraid...of being alone. Of dying alone. I can live forever, it is true, but on the day you take your last breath, so shall mine be too."

Forin smiled. Then he started laughing. A moment later, he stifled his chortles and looked back down at Vorpal. "I don't mean to laugh at your worry, Vorpal, but there are two things I find amusing here. Firstly, why would I abandon you? You're the best weapon I've ever had. The very thought of me throwing you away can be nothing more than some sick joke towards you." He shook his head, smirking. "The other reason I laughed is because...well, it reminded me of myself. Tartarans are naturally born as weapons, to be used by their summoners. Their first summoning is important; if they're unlucky, or aren't good at their job, it can lead to problems in the future. Like Ophile's past summoner. It wasn't his fault that she was a lunatic, but he still lost his summons rights. You should've seen him the month after that, he was so upset..."

If Vorpal had a face, he would've been frowning in the most shocked manner Forin would've ever seen. He hadn't expected the laughter at all and immediately gave off the sense of being mad, but when Forin apologized, he calmed down. He listened quietly as the Tartaran spoke, then said "Hmm, yes, I remember that one. Ophile. A tragedy, that is. To have a master that respects you and cares for your well-being...that is a joy." He tutted, giving off his usual hum once again.