• Closed • Fancy Meeting You Here (Shieldy McShieldface)

[Ellen'wyn]

Ymiden 10, Arc 718

Ellen only remembered bits and pieces of the event that led to her winding up on the island.


Two trials ago

They'd run into a hurricane on the open sea. The sailors weren't able to outrun it or change course in time. The waves rocked the ship so violently that she wondered if it would capsize. It turned out that was the least of their worries. The waves had been taller than trees, crashing over the deck and washing people overboard.

There was no time to try to help them as those who were left scrambled to keep the ship from sinking. One of the masts broke. The sound of the ship groaning, almost as if it was in pain, had elicited a new kind of fear she'd never felt before. Ellen couldn't swim, and the only thing that was keeping her from drowning was falling apart under their feet.

Water filled her eyes and mouth. A frigid mixture of rain and seawater. It was impossible to see clearly. A few people tied themselves down, but ultimately that fail-safe proved to be their deaths. When the second mast collapsed, the ship's deck had buckled. Everything after that was a chain reaction of shit. Waves tore the hull to pieces and split the ship right down the middle. Several screams were silenced then, and soon all that was left was the sound of splintering wood and the roaring sea.

Ellen clung to some intact rigging for dear life. The wind tried to rip it out of her hands, but the woman stubbornly held fast as it flipped it around. She screamed into the rain, angry, terrified, and desperate. Something had hit her then, knocked her loose and sending her somersaulting across the deck. Water rushed over her head and she hit something hard. Hands reached out, clawing, and closed around another rope.

Her head had broke the surface. A small bundle of barrels rocked and tipped in the waves. The mixed-blood hugged them desperately, gasping for air as another wave crashed over her head. She rolled with the bundle a while, spinning out of control in darkness. They broke the surface again suddenly and she drew in another breath before being sucked down once more. It went on like that for a while--too long the track. All she had cared about was staying with those barrels. They were floating, and floating was the opposite of drowning. That was all that mattered, so she hung on and prayed.


Present trial

She'd washed up on some beach after being shat out the ass end of the hurricane. Luckily, in once piece. Unluckily, with no idea where in Idalos she was. A singular sun glared down at her, baking her, drying out her salty clothes and skin. She left like she'd been ground up and bent in knots. Luckily her fractured bones from the previous season had healed, or she likely wouldn't have survived. Ellen turned slowly on her side, groaned, and covered her face with her arm. The waves sounded pleasant and welcoming now. They sighed and churned against the beach, washing up and lapping around her knees.

Ellen laid there for a while, at least until a particularly large wave climbed its way past the break and splashed her in the face. Cold salt water filled her nose and throat. She sputtered in shock, coughing it back up, flailed, rolled onto her belly, and reluctantly started to crawl. The mixed-blood drug herself achingly across wet then dry sand, and when she was well away from the water, collapsed face down on the warm ground.

By the time she finally crawled to her knees, the sun had moved somewhat in the sky. The woman looked up and down the beach, back and forth, but saw nothing that indicated people. There was some wreckage from the ship that had made it to the beach with her, but only a few chunks here and there. Seaweed and driftwood littered the rest of the beach, and farther up was a dense tree line. Ellen lifted herself awkwardly to her feet and shielded her eyes from the glare.

A brief moment of panic hit her then, knocking the wind out of her. She felt quickly around her belt, but when her hands grasped the bag in question she released a heavy sigh.

“Ọfïïsï ke’u,” she said aloud.

Removing her belt and then the bag, Ellen knelt back down and opened it. The redhead shoved her arm inside and it disappeared all the way to the shoulder, eaten up by whatever magic possessed the thing. Her hand wrapped around something smooth and familiar. She lifted the bow out quickly to examine it. No damage. The string was still wrapped neatly around the limb the way she’d left it.

Ellen laid the weapon aside and dove back in. Next came her quiver, then a bundle of arrows, and on the fourth expedition into the mystery bag, it seemed to take some liberties. Her hands closed around something firm and distinctly leather. Pulling it out, she saw it was one of her waterskins--a full waterskin.

"Oh," she whimpered, and quickly ripped out the cork.

The woman had been putting the thirst out of her mind up until now, but it seemed the raging of her subconscious was not to be ignored. Ellen initially began to gulp down the contents, dribbling water down her chin, half-sputtering as the still-cool liquid soothed some of the dryness of her throat and mouth. But her mentor's stern voice suddenly came to her. A reminder; a rule that he'd drilled into her arcs ago.

Don't waste water, especially when you are dehydrated. Conserve it. Take small sips. You never know when you'll find more.

Begrudgingly, Ellen pulled the waterskin from her lips. She was on some island in the middle of only Immortals-knew-where. The redhead didn't even know if the place was inhabited. Birds were singing in the trees ahead, so there was life of sorts--but what kind of other creatures were in there? She stopped the mouth with its cork and laid the skin aside. Fishing around in the bag again produced her second waterskin. She was grateful now that she always had two. It had never really paid off until now.

She closed the bag and put her belt back on. Her quiver was back at her side, bow over her back, and the two waterskins were hanging securely from her shoulder. Ellen was ready to find out what sort of mess she was in now. She climbed to her feet with a groan, dusted off some of the sand, and set off down the beach. First, to get her bearings on this island.

Out of the frying pan and into... what, exactly?

[Aegis]

The First Trial...

The island that Ellen had been so unceremoniously dumped upon was not particularly large, nor notable in any obvious way. As she'd seen, she was on a tanned sand beach, leaning toward more white granules. In the distance leading into the trees that she saw were various tufts of windswept grass. The wind was active today, swirling about Ellen's hair playfully. As it caressed her skin, there would be a momentary feel of someone lovingly running their hand along her neck and shoulder. But as soon as it came, it went.

Some of the native inhabitants looked up at the strange woman, before determining she was a threat. The hermit crabs, ranging from tiny to hand sized, all scurried away from the woman that was digging through her domain bag. A couple of gulls cawed overhead, looking down and seeing a non-threat that was also not food. They ignored her. None of the immediate creatures had ever seen this type of bird, with all of its red hairy and russet wings. It was not a color native to their island.

It wouldn't take Ellen long to determine which direction was with, as such a skill was child's play for even a novice navigator like herself. The trees were due west, the beach extended north and south, and the ocean was to her east. From her position, the southern stretch of beach was more heavily littered with debris from the ship than the northern stretch. There were a number of barrels rolling back and forth in the surf, planks resting further up the beach, one large pile of drift wood at the grass line. It would seem to indicate that it was now low tide, and continuing to lower still.

Up to the north, there was one noticeable piece of debris, one of the mast yards, the cross beams that support the sails, was stuck in the sand, while a stretch of the sail was flowing in and out with the moving tide. There was some sand whirling about in the wind around the sail, occasionally brushing against the damp sail and backing off. Another wave crashed against the beach, surging up over her ankles, splashing up the backs of her legs, and knocking her bag over a bit. As it ebbed out, some water rushed into the bag, joining the contents in the mysterious place they were all stored.

From the treeline a loud, screeching "Ooh wah ah ah ah" broke through the peaceful nature of the island. Some creature out there was not happy. Or perhaps looking for a mate. It could often be hard to tell, but it did indicate that there was at least some form of food beyond hermit crabs, grass, and sea gulls on the island. Once more, the wind blew through Ellen, and this time there was a caressing along her feathered wings, distinctly similar to a person's touch.

And again, the surf crashed against Ellen's legs.

The question was... What now?

!	Message from: Aegis
	Have at it chica. You get +2 questions for this round. If you receive answers, I ask you use them in your post if able.

[Ellen'wyn]

She trudged up the shore, soggy, sandy, and wary. Crabs scattered, uncertain of her presence and ultimately seeming to not want to tempt fate. In the back of her mind there was a small reminder that food would be necessary soon, although she was more inclined to investigate whatever creatures were hollering in the trees than to catch a dozen little crabs. Ellen was going down a mental list as the broken mast loomed overhead.

For shelter she had her tent, but if for some reason it was damaged then there seemed to be plenty of opportunities to build one. Fire would be easy--there were bountiful trees with long green fronds swaying in the tropic breeze. She had a steel striker and some flint tucked away for later. She had two reasonably full waterskins, but finding a fresh source of water was going to be a top priority. Then there was food. Crabs were obviously bountiful, if need be, but she was sure there was something much bigger running around.

A few gulls screamed at her, floating effortlessly overhead on their smooth, angular wings. Ellen couldn't find anything interesting in the debris scattered near the mast. The barrels had holes in them, so whatever was stored inside before was long lost to the sea as sacrifice. She waded up to her knees in the surf, grabbing what remained of the torn sail and hoisted it up onto land. She cut the last ropes securing it to the mast and drug it farther and farther, up to where she hoped was well out of the way of the tide. It might come to some use later.

She opened and untangled it, stretching it out flat in the sun so that it could dry. Although the sail was no longer whole, wrestling with the thick wet canvas left her slightly out of the breath. A few bits of grunting and dragging later and it was as good as it was going to get. As she stood, she wiped some hair out of her face and squinted, catching sight of something dark on the sand a ways up the beach. The redhead shielded her eyes, focusing on it. A body.

Ellen ran as fast as her legs would go. She was exhausted, but this lit a little fire under her. The half-breed kicked sand up in her wake, pumping with her arms as hard as she could before half-stumbling and sliding to a halt at the body's side. The surf washed up around their armpits and one of their shoes was missing. They were face down in the sand, but she could tell it was definitely a woman. Her skirts billowed with water, and her long dark hair was plastered across her face.

Ellen grabbed both of her cold wrists and pulled her farther up out of the water's grasp. She quickly rolled the woman over and carefully wiped the wet locks from her eyes and cheeks. She was pale, blue in the lips, and still as death. Ellen probed awkwardly around her neck, trying to feel for a pulse, but failed. She dropped an ear to her chest then, listening, but all she could hear was the wind, waves, and gulls. The redhead huffed impatiently, pressing around in search of the pulse again.

Still nothing. There was no rise and fall of the chest. No obvious heartbeat. The woman was cold as ice and pale as--well, death. Ellen sat back on her haunches, regarding the lifeless woman for a while. Were there any other survivors? Was she really alone? The half-breed climbed awkwardly to her feet and looked around. Ocean, beach, forest, but nothing else. She needed to see it all--to really get a bearing on her situation. Ellen opened her wings, sending out a light shower of sand, and jumped into the air.

She flapped once, twice, three times, until she was past the treeline, and for a while she just kept going. Finally she leveled off and circled back. The island was spread out before her now. Not particularly large, but it wasn't small either. The forest stretched off a ways, but she could see the edge and the far shore. Ellen looked past all that then, to the horizon. There was nothing but open ocean in every direction. The expanse of blue was endless, where the sea and sky met and almost melted into one.

Fluffy white clouds scudded across the sky as if the massive storm had simply been a bad dream. It might have been picturesque, had she not been so hopelessly and utterly stranded.

[Aegis]

Date

He grunted, wheezing, as he hiked through the small jungle, tripping and stumbling in delirium. He didn't need to look back, knowing he'd mortally wounded the beast, but in doing so he'd upset something on this island. Something he hadn't been expecting, and he'd paid for it. Still, the smile never left his face. For there was nothing more than Cassion loved was a surprising new story of adventure.

He burst out of the treeline into beach, seeing debris everywhere, his chest heaving. A blood covered hand was raised above his eyes, shielding them from the bright sun, as he scanned the area. A wrecked ship, much like his own tiny vessel he'd crashed into an unexpected reef. Normally he'd have been fine, but he'd been talking to a particularly excited dolphin at the back of the ship, and the lurch had thrown him overboard, without his supplies. And then his ship was carried by the wind away from him, leaving him stranded in the surf. But another chapter in another story. The dolphin at least pointed him in the direction of the nearest island.

In his view he saw her, way up in the air above. He waved at her and hollered, "Hey there! Winged beauty! This your beach?"

He looked around the beach, his eyes narrowing. There were so many of them here, he could feel them. And they were not amused by his presence. It seemed word had spread fast on this island, and not in his favor. It wasn't often he'd made an enemy, but it happened. He walked toward the stretched out sail, taking in all of the details around him, still clutching the large wound in his stomach where the boar had managed to gore him. He looked down at the sheet, smiled, and fell face first onto it into unconsciousness, his wound bleeding all over the sail.

His wound was now more visible, revealing a large gash, a rib poking out. And the moment he was down, everything changed. First the winds around the beach turned violent. Sand was being kicked up, starting to cover Cassion and the sail. And soon, the winds around Ellen began whipping up. The pushed and pulled at the woman in ways that could not be confused as natural. They were powerful, seemingly trying to tear her wings from her sockets, her hair from her head, her skirt from her legs.

Down upon the beach, several thin, tall twisters were forming, sucking up the sand, meandering over to the wounded man, dumping more and more sand upon him. There was one, smaller dust devil not participating in the burying of the immortal, simply spinning about on one end of the beach. Below Ellen, the waves were thrashing and crashing against one another, and not the gently ebb and flow that had been present earlier. It seemed some were heading for the beach, and others away from it.

And still, the winds fought at her.

[Ellen'wyn]

Ellen was distracted by her dark thoughts, momentarily consumed by a brief but overwhelming sense of helplessness, so she heard him before she saw him. The sound of his voice was so unexpected and out of place that she dropped several feet, stalling in shock before her wings would move again.

"Gods--!" she squawked with a gasp, arms and legs flailing. "What in the f--Who ar--?!"

She fumbled with her words, quickly circling down toward him like a giant buzzard over carrion, but he seemed distracted by something. Up until he collapsed and a little red pool began to collect around him.

"Gods!" she exclaimed again, not only shocked but a little exasperated.

Laying supine as he was, she could see the reason for his sudden fall, and Ellen was quickly reminded that she was most definitely not a doctor. The sight of his gored flesh and exposed bone made her stomach churn. It was different than seeing it with a skinned animal. She could relate to a person, and it made her cringe.

But there was a damned good chance that he was a survivor from the wreck. He wasn't familiar, but that didn't mean much. And if he was here, maybe there were more. If not though, then it was all the most important that he not bleed to death on the beach.

"Hey! Don't you go and croak!" the half-breed shouted as the winds began to pick up.

Ellen wobbled precariously in the air, confused by the sudden gust, and then the turbulence hit her. She was rocked and tossed in the sudden flurry, screeching in fright as she tumbled head over heel for several feet until the air filled her wings again and she could right herself. Still, the wind was ripping and pulling, spinning her in circles, and she saw a few feathers go fluttering off to the sea.

Her hair whipped her in the face, blinding her as she flapped madly to keep from being sucked into one of the mysterious twisters. She screamed in frustration, finally pulling the locks from her eyes enough to see the stranger's predicament. Would the sand actually bury him? She didn't want to risk it. Not only that, but his wound would get dirty and likely infected.

"Fucking wind!" she snarled, and tucked her wings.

She dropped quickly, pulled to and fro by the forceful gusts, but tried to keep her wings locked and rigid to control her descent. It was impossible to come down easy, but the redhead managed to not break anything or eat too much sand upon landing. She slid across the ground sputtering and wiping grains from her face, spitting out clods of beach matter as she quickly crawled over to the unconscious man.

Ellen grabbed one edge of the wet, bloody sail and pulled it over them. She covered his torso with her body, trying to shield him the best he could while cocooning them in the dirty, stained canvas. It would at least keep the sand off of them, but the winds seemed bound and determined to try and rip it from her fingers. All she could do was grit her teeth and hang on.

[Aegis]

Date

Cassion groaned as Ellen pulled the sail over the pair of them, giving them some mild protection from the elements that seemed determined to spite them specifically. The man was of no help to the woman in this state. He was unconscious, helpless, and dying. The blood upon the sail that now wrapped over them was sticking to Ellen's face as the winds howled and ravaged the beach. The twisters poured more and more sand atop the pair, pressing down upon them slowly, ever increasing in the weight, threatening to suffocate first, crush later. The world grew darker and darker as the very elements punished the man and woman beneath them.

Or rather, most of the elements punished them.

Ellen would feel it first, for it was too dark to see it. It was shifting beneath her. At first, it would seem just like the sand shifting and adjusting as was natural in this situation. Until the movement was clearly too intentional. Subtle shifts, movement against the expected. Perhaps a large spider trapped underneath her, struggling to escape? A mole burrowing up through the sand? No. The sand itself was moving, pressing up along Ellen's body, and she could sense a noise that simply "sounded" like curiosity. It was not a noise, merely a feeling. More and more sand shifted around her, and an aura of comfort was enveloping around Ellen and Cassion.

And soon, the weight that was crushing down ceased, and was pushed back. The vibrations of the raging winds above could still be felt, but the risk of imminent death seemed to be gone. The pocket in the sand expanded, enough to allow Ellen the ability to sit upright, even crawl about a little bit. There was some more shifting, and a hole, no thicker than the width of a finger opened up, allowing light to leak in, a hole that the winds didn't seem to find. In front of Ellen, hovering in the air, were several chunks of sand, and sandstone it seemed, bobbing around like a swarm of insects. This entity bobbed curiously before the woman.

A stone left from the swarm, pressing gently against her skin, probing at it, pressing a bit more firmly at times, and less so at others. It didn't seem to speak, nor did it appear to be menacing. But one thing was certain, it was responsible for the shelter Ellen now found herself in with Cassion. There didn't appear to be a center, or a core, or really any central part of the hovering stones, nothing to indicate face or body. It simple... was. It was there. It reached out once more with a stone, putting it in Ellen's hair, running it through the red mess of curls and tangles. It snagged on a few, and yanked them out, bringing them back to the swarm. The hairs were touched by the other particles, stretched, and pulled, before they were let go, dropped to the sand below.

And it just sat there, hovering before Ellen.

[Ellen'wyn]

The claustrophobia was suffocating. Ellen screwed her eyes shut as the sand slowly buried them. The light had dulled, leaving them in almost complete darkness. Her heart pounded out of control, and it was hard to draw in breath. She panted quickly--rapid bursts that bordered on hyperventilation as her arms strained against the weight of the sand. In through the nose, out of the mouth, concentrating on everything but the crushing dark.

So focused on not having a meltdown as she was, it took a few noticeable bumps from the shifting ground to get her attention. For a moment she considered if a crab was trapped under them, struggling in vain to get free, but it was too persistent--and more important--too apparently strong to be a panicked crustacean. The half-breed felt pushed, shifted, and nudged by the increasing movements. She didn't know why this wasn't adding to the panic, but instead she realized that she suddenly wasn't so afraid anymore.

There was something there, and it wanted to meet them.

The weight pinning them down slid away, and finally she was able to move again. Ellen squirmed free from under the tarp, throwing it back with a shower of sand and a gasp for fresh air. The wind still tossed her hair, but didn't seem to be ready to rip her limb off now. She tried to wipe the blood, sand, and sweat from her face didn't do much other than smear it. She felt exhausted from the adrenaline and fear that were now gone, and it took a moment to register what was floating in front of her, greeting her in a swirling silence.

"What--?"

She sat still as one of the stones investigated her. At least she thought it must have been some sort of investigation. Almost like a hand, the rock brushed her face, tested her clothing, then suddenly pulled out a few strands of hair. Ellen jumped and opened her mouth to protest, but the thing seemed enamored. As enamored as a floating mass of sand and rocks could look. She didn't feel any sort of animosity or malice coming from the thing. In fact she felt better sitting next to this rocky mystery than she had in trials.

Ellen furrowed her brows and reached out to one of the rocks as it floated past her face.

"Who are you?" What are you?

[Aegis]

Date

The entity allowed Ellen's reach out to touch the floating rocks that seemed to make it up. And at her touch, it felt just as one might expect from floating sand and rock, but also, was very much alive. Brimming with energy. And she could feel... curiosity. It ran the course sand and rocks over both sides of her hand, not scraping or causing pain, but rather feeling her back. It caressed every nook and cranny of her hand, bits of sand getting in between her fingers, and even under her fingernails, cleaning out the muck beneath there.

When it was done investigating her hand, it pulled more sand from the surrounding structure, and formed a perfect mimicry of Ellen's hand. It moved about, stretching and spreading the fingers. It then reached out, and pressed against Ellen's cheek, cupping it gently. It did not respond to her question, at least, not with words. But it did pass a vision into Ellen. It showed her flashes of the sands of the beach. Of stone underwater. Of the ground and of the earth. Of rocks from around the world.

Then the shelter shook violently, likely from one of the tornadoes above. The sand bristled, and passed on feelings of annoyance and defensiveness into Ellen. The hand dissipated back into the sand surrounding the winged woman, and then the entire beach began to shift and move. The ceiling around Ellen opened up to the sky during this shifting of sand, allowing her to see the tornado nearby, pulling on her hair and wings, stinging at the skin.

Then a massive, sand based fist punched up from the beach, tearing right through the closest tornado, completely disrupting it, and absorbing the sand and debris that was within it. All up and down the beach, stone and sand fists, as large as trees, punched up through the tornadoes, until the beach came to a calm. Once all was quiet, the entity returned to Ellen, a floating hand, her floating hand, and touched her again. Feelings of safety were pressed into her. It then pressed into her the feeling of a question too.

Who was she? And why was she with the Storyteller?

At the mention of the Storyteller, the entity bristled a bit, but kept itself in check. It cleared away the sand covering Cassion's barely conscious form pulling every grain of sand from Ellen's person as well. It pressed in emotions of offense, the Storyteller and his kind were not welcome on this island. Enemies. Danger. Violence. This was sacred territory.

In the distance, the smaller tornado from before bristle, just beyond one of the large Ellen fists, wanting to get at the woman and the Storyteller, but respecting the boundary set by the sand entity.

[Ellen'wyn]

She felt the faint hum of something alive beneath her fingers. It was a strange sensation coming from stone, but it was definitely there. Like a warm vibration--not a heartbeat per say, but close enough. And the entity pushed back, gently exploring her skin, fingers, under her nails. She wrinkled her nose at the funny feeling. It wasn't an expression of distaste, but of curious delight. It seemed rational, in the back of her mind, to wonder why she didn't feel afraid whatever this thing before her was.

Ellen watched in wonder as the figure shifted, changing, mimicking her digits perfectly like a little sculpted mirror. It reached out with a hand very much like her own and touched her, smoothing against her blood-stained cheek. She offered a small smile, reaching up to touch the sand fingers, but paused when the images came to the front of her mind. It was as if she was seeing two things at once. The entity, and what it wanted to show her. Her brows furrowed at the strange manipulation to her senses--the trick of the eye and mind--and then it was gone.

She opened her mouth with a question ready on her tongue when the sand and stone around them shuddered and shivered. Small granules showered down on her shoulders and hair. If the entity had a face, she might had thought it was scowling. She could feel its shift toward annoyance like it was her own before the sand pulled away from her, just as the beach started to tremble. The ceiling parted, letting in an angry blast of air from the nearby tornado.

Her stomach dropped. What was it doing? She squinted against the dirt and grit blowing all around, covering her head with one arm and trying to shield the injured stranger with an outstretched wing. The angle wasn't quite right, but she did her best.

"What's happening?" she shouted above the howl of the wind, but the words were torn from her lips with a harsh gust.

A moment later, the first fist appeared. It was a violent and powerful display, and Ellen watched slack-jawed as the beach retaliated and swung a hard left hook, then a right, then an uppercut, breaking right through the twisting columns of wind until all they could hear was the ocean breeze and sigh of waves rolling up the shore. It was the sand hand's return to her cheek that startled her out of her stupor. She jumped in surprised, blinking at the now-calm entity, but couldn't help relaxing as it soothed her with that strange power it had to express emotion so well.

And then it finally asked something. The half-breed was so intrigued by it all that she was eager and willing to answer. Her words came in a bit of a rush.

"My name is Ellen'wyn. I was on a ship travelling to Desnind--That's where I'm from. Do you know where that is? Well there was a storm--a hurricane I think, and the ship sank. I washed up on the island." She took a little breath. "I think--I don't know, I haven't found any other survivors yet except--"

She faltered then, taken off guard by the entity's reaction toward the strange man. She looked at him.

"The Storyteller?" Ellen's face twisted in confusion. "I don't know who he is. I don't remember seeing him on the ship. I don't know where he came from. What do you mean, his kind?"

He looked human, but larger. His skin was tan, much darker than the sand he was sprawled limp on, but she thought a lot of it might have been from the sun. His hair was dreaded but not particularly unkempt. It looked intentional, which wasn’t really a common sight; at least where she was from. Overall he didn’t look very dangerous—but she relented that anyone would look less threatening when they were unconscious.

[Aegis]

Date

The spirit bristled each time Ellen mentioned the storyteller and his kind. It undulated angrily, but soon, it calmed once more. It floated a stone to Ellen's forehead, touching it to her. A vision displayed within her head. The island she was on, though in this vision, much larger, trees taller. And all throughout the island, entities like that which was communicating with her were visible. Some were made of water, others of wind, some were animals, others trees. It looked, and felt, like perfect, natural harmony.

Then it showed a man that was not a man. Tall, blonde, divine. But more importantly, carried a bloodlust within him. A bloodlust more powerful than any Ellen could've ever known, more powerful than even the vile Noth could hope to achieve. The man walked upon the island, and the entities moved away from this being. Except for one. A large one formed, made of waves and wind and sand and trees, storm of power.

Words were spoken by the man to the entity, words of old that Ellen could not understand. The entity thrashed in outrage. The man shrugged, and conjured a vicious black and crimson sword into his hands, and in motion faster than could be seen, sliced down the being. It disappeared from the world, leaving no corpse behind. The man spoke again, this time to the other smaller entities, all of whom were outraged at this act of aggression. They bowed before the man, but with extreme reluctance.

And with a smirk, he walked off the island, the water keeping him afloat as though it were ground as he headed westward to the main continent.

The vision ended. The entity of sand and stone couldn't communicate in the same way that Ellen could, but was satisfied with the answer it had given her. That was when Cassion stirred, eyes fluttering open, and coughing loudly. He sat up with a pained groan. He looked around, seeing Ellen and the earth anak spirit she was conversing with. And he smiled.

"Well hello there."

Looking around at the hands of sand that were still formed, "Seems I missed an interesting moment."

The spirit defensively put itself between Ellen and Cassion, and began pelting the immortal with stones, causing the man to bring up his hands defensively, scrambling backwards, "Easy easy, whoa. Come on."

Once at a nonthreatening range, in the Anak's mind, Cassion spoke again, "What is going on? Who are you? Why is this little spirit so angry with me? Where are we?"

Each word from Cassion spurred on rage in the Anak, and it grew larger, taking on more stones and sand. Meanwhile, the smaller whirlwind anak had moved in closer as well, now that the earth anak was no longer fighting it off. Wave after wave of strange emotion pelted Ellen from the earth anak. Anger. Pain. Loss. Duty. Loneliness.

Cassion touched at his wound, seeing that the sand that was within it had stopped most of the bleeding, "I'm still not even sure how I got here, now that I think about it..."

Looking back at the redhead, "Any ideas of how to get off this island, before this little guy beats me to death?"