The Forgotten Zodiac

"Ah, I see. You're unaware of the fact that I can go for roughly a month without food and minimal amounts of water, then. You could likely forget about me and leave me in here, I'd still be okay. Aside from the fact that I can't make it to the door without being shot full of arrows." Carlyle chortled, taking a bit of the food before she could take it away. "This is very good though, thank you. Most delicious. Did you make it?"

She held back a sharp 'What it to you?' in favor of answering "No, I can't cook this style of food. I only know the foods of the desert and lowlands, where I lived." She moved her hand out and stroked Blossom's back, making the kitten purr, then said "Here, let me check your wound. It's probably healed already, but I want to be sure."

She shoved his shirt up without waiting for his answer and started unwrapping bandages.

"I would think that the norm is to have a romantic meal first, but okay," Carlyle joked, holding his shirt up so she could check his wound. It was indeed healed, with very little scarring. "It certainly feels a lot better. Oh," He eyed his stomach, rubbing the healed flesh. "Yep, it looks good. Can I get up now? I'm really tired of sitting around, I feel way too vulnerable..."

Her blush, which had just been going away, sprang back up at his words, but she said nothing. She turned and threw the bandages into the waste basket and said "If you're well enough to make foolish retorts then you're well enough to be out of bed." She scooped Blossom into her hands, then turned for the door and stepped out, leaving it wide open.

Carlyle smiled and stood up, carrying the tray with him. He paused in the hallway, hearing a small clicking; a large metal orb landed in the room, rolling to the center of the room before coming to a stop. Carlyle slammed the door, just as spikes erupted from the orb, impaling anything there. He was lucky; one of the spikes hit through the door and nearly hit him, but darkness pushed it back and sealed off the room.

"Those Blood Hawks are relentless, aren't they?" Obelisk snarled. "Are you quite alright, Carlyle?"

"I'm doing better, thanks to you guys..." He shrugged, then spotted Seria. "O-oh! You're alive again! That's excellent, I was really worried..." He smiled.

"Yes, they're alive." Cyprus smiled. "Werr is...less so, but we'll get him soon." He peeked over the edge of the book he was reading. He was clearly in a very good mood. "Are those bad people still attacking?"

"Yeah...I'm sorry." Carlyle shook his head. "I think it would just be easier if I handed myself over...they'd leave the rest of you alone, if I did."

"Do I have to slap you again?" Zelana hissed, giving a sharp tug on a thick lock of his hair. "I'll kill you myself before I let you give yourself up like that. They want to play games?" She grinned suddenly, looking positively malicious. "Then we'll play their game," she spat. "You hear me, Carlyle? You're mine." She blushed at once, then said "You know, ours. This group. You're ours."

"Right..." Carlyle blinked.

"We take care of our own, Carlyle. Don't worry, we'll chase those Blood Hawks away before they can get to you." Ophile chortled a bit.

"Yeah...I'll never get used to this," Carlyle raised a brow at Ophile, then yelped as Spy crawled up his leg and sniffed his cheek.

"I must memorize how you smell. That way, I can find you easier," Spy insisted, climbing up and curling up in Carlyle's hair.

Zelana turned away, clearly done dealing with them, and went to help Galai in the kitchen. When she found Galai and Diana, however, they weren't cleaning or cooking. Diana was holding an arrow and Galai was instructing her on something. "-you hold it, be careful. It's a very powerful source of magic, you remember. Don't forget to train hard with it, and you'll be a very, very strong master archer before you know it. Now, see how the light flickers? How powerful they are depends on how much you put into them." She trailed off when she saw Zelana, smiling at the gryphon and the kitten in her arms. "Hello, sweetie," the queen said, smiling.

Diana was listening intently, and looked up at Zelana as Galai spoke to her. The young girl slowly shifted to hide behind Galai, but she looked up sharply when there was a knock on the door.

"Ah, Forin. Welcome home." Obelisk greeted, opening the door to let them in.

"FORIN!" Diana practically screamed, running out from behind Galai and tackling her summons as quickly as she could.

Galai blinked in shock, then smiled and followed Diana out to greet the arrival of their friends.

She winced when she caught sight of Luen. He looked like someone on their deathbed. His skin tone was pallid, sallow and pale, weak and utterly sickly. He looked like he was going to drop dead at any second. He had bags under his eyes and he was shaking terribly, as if all the chill of Winter had taken him over. He smiled weakly, however, when he saw Diana.

"D-D-Diana..." he murmured, his teeth chattering.

Diana stared at Luen for a long moment, then looked down at her summon's arm. "Forin, why are you in a sling? Is your arm broken? Seria can fix it!" Diana darted away and nudged the half-cat, wondering if the healer was asleep. "Seria, you've gotta fix Forin's arm! He's hurt, you just gotta!"

"N-no, Diana, it's not broken," Forin said, but he was too busy helping Luen inside to explain. "It's just...resting."

"I can still look at it, if you want," Seria said, rubbing her eyes wearily. She caught sight of Luen and gasped. "Luen!" she gasped, moving over and taking Allie from his back so the poor kirin could take human form. She settled Allie on the couch, then looked back up at Luen. "What's happened to you?!" she said, watching as he transformed and slumped against Forin, unable to even hold himself up.

"I-I...d-d-don't...kn-know..." he stammered, shaking terribly. He had lost some weight, not that he had much to lose in the first place, and it made Seria very concerned. "Well, you and Forin are both going to sit down. You hardly look any better, Forin," Seria tutted.

She was lying, of course. Forin looked much better than the kirin, but she didn't want to tell Luen that.

Forin reached over and pulled Diana into his lap, using his slinged-arm. "I'm perfectly fine, thank you very muc--" Forin stopped, wincing and putting his hand on his elbow. "Ow..."

"See, it's broken," Diana whimpered, picking at the bandages.

"No, Diana...it was torn off." Forin said gently. "Naminai and Airlia reattached it. The tendons and ligaments are sensitive for now."

"Oh...I see." Diana tilted her head to the side. "Why was it torn off?"

"Because...I, uh...was in a fight."

"With who?"

"Dulce."

Diana tensed and leaned closer to Forin. "Did you win?"

"Yes...I did. He's dead now..."

"Oh..."

Seria moved over and began to poke and prod at Forin's arm, frowning. Her touch was very gentle, however, quite unlike Namanai's quick, sharp 'I'm-going-to-look-at-this-how-I-please-and-you-aren't-going-to-complain-at-all' touch. "I can help with the pain," she suggested, then glanced up when Luen stumbled into the bathroom. They heard miserable, weak retching sounds a moment later. He didn't come back out, instead choosing to sit against the wall and cry ever so softly, not wanting anyone to hear him. It hurt so badly...

Seria sighed, then fingered Forin's new scar on his arm.

"Leave it," Forin said quietly. "You know..." He leaned back, knowing Seria would leave it alone. He had tons of scars. There was a jagged 'X' mark over his lips, bite marks, cuts, and now an entire amputation. Scars told stories. For a Tartaran, flawless skin was a sign of weakness and cowardice; no true Tartaran would avoid fighting. And even the strongest ones got hurt.

The new muscle, however, had torn. That was a scar Forin didn't want at all, and it was something Seria could heal. As she worked, Diana stood and walked away, sitting next to Luen and getting comfortable while leaning against him. "It's okay, she murmured, holding his hand. "I...I'm glad you're back." She smiled up at him. "I...I was so afraid, when you left. If Galai hadn't been there, I might have...killed myself." She looked down, feeling ashamed of herself. "I was trying to summon Forin again. I cut my arm. There was blood everywhere...but of course, it didn't work..."

Luen slowly dried his tears, still feeling quite sick to his stomach. He wrapped his arms around Diana, trying to concentrate on something other than his sickness. "Why...why would you...do that...?" he said softly, sounding heartbroken. "Didn't you know...that we would always come back to you?" He nuzzled her hair softly, closing his eyes and exhaling heavily. He started crying again, hugging her tightly and trying desperately to comfort himself. He had never been this sick before, and it was making him fearful.

((By the way, I accidentally had Ophile talking to Carlyle earlier, and forgot that I had him go with the others. Change it to Spy speaking, yeah? xwx))

"I was scared..." Diana murmured. "I was afraid that something bad would happen to me. I was afraid...th-that when you came back, you wouldn't love me anymore. I have nightmares about that..." She said softly. "Where you forget about me. You, and Forin, Luna, even Nate and Ophile, and all the others...you all just forget, and when I sit down and cry, you all just leave...but I suppose those are just nightmares..." She sighed, then hugged him again. "I'm glad you're back, Luen...and I hope you feel better soon..." She listened quietly as Galai explained to the returned group what all was going on. Then she decided to take a nap, lying against her oddly warm friend happily.

-

"There it is," Nate stopped the carriage. Bulliete's war camp, littered with red and silver tents, couldn't have been more obvious. Its flag was posted next to the Alastorian flag.

"I'll go get Nirvan." Ophile jumped out of the carriage, turning invisible and plodding off quickly.

Several dreadfully long minutes passed until Ophile rushed out of the camp, leading an older, more decorated soldier. He was almost as prized as Nate was; the buttons and ribbons he had on his lapel claimed that he was a strong fighter and had served many years in the army. "Ophile, I trust you completely, but what the heck is going on?" He insisted upon seeing the carriage. "You said I had an order from the king, but the king is dead. Killed at the hands of Herrace soldiers."

"Just shut up for a second." Ophile snorted.

Nate slid down from the carriage. "Nirvan, this is important. Is there any chance that anyone might be listening in on this?" He questioned.

"No, I don't...think so..." Nirvan frowned.

"Make certain, sir, because what we're about to show you is not to be seen by Bulliete eyes. What we're about to tell you is not to be heard by their ears." Nate insisted.

Nirvan studied him carefully, then sighed. He turned to the bushes and jabbed his thumb back at the camp. A young child, no older than Diana, stood and ran back. "There you go," He frowned again. "No one's listening. I'm sure of it."

It was Nate's turn to study him. Seasoned soldiers had ways to tell if one was lying or not. When he was satisfied, Nate looked over at Welk and Cynyr and nodded once, indicating that they should let Nirvan look into the carriage.

((Ahkay, got it.))

Cynyr lifted his single-eyed gaze and looked over at Welk, who had long since reemerged from the wind-wall with Isslia. His hair was still mused and ruffled from Isslia's fingers going through it, and when the wall had first come down, they had both been blushing furiously, looking extremely happy. Now, Welk was just sitting with Isslia, his arms wrapped around her as he stroked her soft light-gray hair, enjoying his memories of kissing her.

He had been trying not to think about Werr, because he didn't want to be upset so soon after such a good moment with Isslia. But there was no help for it now.

He met Cynyr's eye, then sighed and nodded slowly. He hugged Isslia tightly, gently kissing the back of her neck, then slowly moved with his brother, dreading going near the coffin.

Cynyr patted his shoulder, then moved the lid from the coffin and carefully lifted the corpse inside.

Welk turned away at once, pulling his ears down over his eyes.

"Sharp man," Cynyr said, still holding Werr's body. "But seriously. Unless you're willing to be screwed over, Herrace is not the ones we should be fighting. Bulliete is our target. And frankly, with Izan at the head, it makes a pretty big, fat one." He shifted Werr and moved him back inside, settling him in the coffin once more. "Besides, you know me and Welk and Nate. We wouldn't lie about something this serious. I mean, look at Welk. He's a mess."

For once, Welk had no answer. He simply remained hunched over, his ears pulled low over his eyes, trying not listen or see anything.