Welcome to Gaia! ::

It had been half an hour since Coursabal had disappeared into the embrace of the tavern known as the Tied Gryfon before Pedrius felt a ripple of power wash out through the building's very walls. That psychic wave was followed by a shrill feminine scream that cut through the air like a terrified child...

Back in the room D'artra's body was arched, her scream defening all about her for a moment. Alacade grunted, Coursabal winced, and the Lady Snikit hid her doggy head beneath her large black paws. Color washed through her body, the sickening scab that covered what had been a mortal wound dark. Alacade leaned over to wrap a blanket about her, his cool slender fingertips going soothingly to her brow as he began to whisper serenity in the language of his long since vanished people.

As her scream faded sobs took over her entire body, and she reached up, clinging to the Corverian male as if he were her only lifeline. She sat up as he sat beside her, burrying her face into the crook of his neck as she let the rivers of tears scar her face. Her back shook with the shuddering sobs and he could only sit there and hold her, his fingers getting lost in the paleness of her pure silken hair.

Alacade smoothed back silver hair as D'artra cried into his neck, her breath warm against his otherwise cool flesh. Her body was shaking, riddled with the pained sobs.

"Don't... don't make me go back!" She sniffled as the tears burned from her eyes in cristalline purity. "P-please! Dei'andri! It hurts... it hurt... so much... I don't want to return... tell me I don't have to, please, don't make me!"

Coursabal tensed, his first instinct to protect D'artra shoving logic from his mind. It took a great amount of self control to keep from wanting to wrap her in his arms again. He wanted her to be alright... wanted to hear her sweet soothing laughter. To see her smiling and teasing once more. His twin eyes fell upon a double-fingerprint bruise that marred her wrist. That hadn't been there before. Confusion stirred within his mind as Alacade hushed the female with a father's tender care, rocking her in his protective arms.

Snikit looked up, lifting her massive black head. After D'artra was calm enough to not lapse into hysterics a doggy smile twisted her maw and she hopped up on the bed beside the two. She licked D'artra's pale arm with a warm slobbery kiss before grinning and saying, "Common, pup, don't I get a hug as well?"

D'artra sniffled a bit, her teary dark eyes turning towards the dog with a little hint of shocked suprise. "Sn..snikit?!"

A soft wuff and a tail wag latter the dog continued. "There was an execution at the Borderline Square. Apparently the Red Lady has let the priests and executioners change their color schemes again, because the executioner was wearing white and blue instead of red and blue."

A meek little smile tiped D'artra's lips, but she couldn't do much more. Then Alacade let out a soft laugh before shoving the massive dog off the bed and onto the floor.

"HEY! Alley! that wasn't nice!" The canine whine was accompanied by the hard glare of deep dark brown eyes.

D'artra relaxed. She was home. With her family. She let her arms tighten about Alacade as though she were still naught but a child, afraid that to let him go would be to lose him yet again. She turned to look at Coursabal. He was alright. A sigh of relief lifted the burden from her weighted shoulders and she managed another little smile. Then her watery eyes grew wide with shock as she glanced about the room. "Where's Pedrius?"

Alacade found himself, too, looking at Coursabal. Then he frowned, looking back between the two youngsters he had come to love as children. "Who?"

Coursabal felt his ears grow warm and soon everyone was looking at him. Oh if only wolves could blue how red he'd be! "He... well... he's um..."

Alacade let his mind brush against the thoughts of the lupine. Then he smirked before unlacing D'artra's arms and standing. She seemed startled, and instantly grabbed ahold of his hand. She didn't want to be alone anymore. Dark colorless, pupiless eyes turned towards her, dark hair slipping into his deeply tanned face. "Do not be afraid, Mia-Rinu, you have returned to us, and you always will be able to."

slowly pale fingers slipped shakily from his strong soft hands. She gave a light nod of her head before asking. "What are you going to do?"

Alacade laughed good-naturedly, "Just gonna see if he'd like to join me for a drink."

Coursabal swore beneath his breath, Snikit let out a huff sound, and D'artra couldn't help but giggle.

It was only a matter of moments before Alacade found himself stopped before the body that controted against the bonds of right and wrong. He frowned. Perhaps if he hadn't burnt his sense off smell out with the strongist of liquors he might have noticed the foul scent that hung about the air. Instead me barely managed a sigh and shook his head lightly. This... was going to be interesting.

--D'artra? Could you bring both Snikit and Coursabal out here... we've got ourselves a... situation.-- The smooth vevelty voice drifted easily towards the female. And a mere moment later the three managed their way outside, D'artra's fingers curled needily in Snikit's dark fur. She still wasn't ready to be completely alone. not even just physcially.

Though... both canines stopped a well and good deal away from the Corvierian and the Holy Knight, the smell that afronted them making both turn their noses in distaste. D'artra, however, did the opposite. He dark eyes grew wide as the shifting vile cloth flickered in the wind. she moved closer until she knelt by Pedrius' side. Her teeth scraped over her lower lip as she examined his face. Hesitently she reached her fingers out, but Alacade's strong grip stopped her, his voice steady and stern, "Make sure you know to which it is you call, my daughter..."

She didn't move her eyes from Pedrius' face, her own expression on of infinate resolve. Alacade's cold fingers slipped from her wrist and he took half a step back, adjusting his long dark overcoat. Oh how he needed a drink.

Gentle pure fingertips brushed against Pedrius' brow, trailing innocent fire across his skin. It was subtle gentle and soft, as if to question the damage and why.

"Borking hokey-mokey haffle-daffle..." She closed her eyes, twin pools of dark shadows shutting out the phisical world until she was searching with her other senses. It was okay... she'd seen her Dei'Andri do this... once.

Alacade turned toward the two canines, his eyes going from the four-legged black dog to the tall pale lupine. He could feel the lass as she dove deeper into the swirling abyss of her powers...powers she didn't even know she had. "Can you guys ask Darlea to clear out the back room and help her run a bath, this is going to be a long night..."

Snikit's tail wagged merrily and she bound off towards the door to the tavern. She didn't care, just so long as she was well and away from the smell that affronted her. Coursabal merely cast a glance at D'artra before giving the softest nod of his head. She'd be safe with Cade... and Nick would be safe with her. Silently he followed the dog's lead inside, leaving the three to their business.

Alacade leaned against the tree, carefull to not get hit by the thrashing male as his colorless eyes fixated upon D'artra. It was amazing, really... but just a moment ago she had been nothing more than a sobbing child. Yes... amazing. Even as he thought it his fingers drifted into the interrior of his jacket, pulling out one of the many large diamond decantor.

After she was focused enough she let her consciousness flow into Pedrius, her presence a gentle breeze within his mind. She pushed deeper, counteracting the damage she had done with her return as much as possible... searching for that familiar self that was Pedrius...

--Can you hear me, Sir Knight?--

Alacade didn't miss a beat. He tipped back the decantor and let the burning alcohol claim its path down his throat. If he could die, he would have long ago... but something in him had refused the death of his kind, fought off the vicious plague that assaulted their blood. He'd done nothing but drink for centuries. Surely he should be dead alread... but no. Still, he lived. He opened a pure black eye to glance at D'artra. There wasn't the slightest hint of shock or surprize upon her face. She was one who had come to accept the unexpected.

He shut that eye again before starting back towards the tavern, still downing the contents of the large decantor. With his free hand he gave a light careless wave, offering a slight shield of protection for himself and those within the tavern. Just enough to give warning should this other inside his daughter's friend decided violence was needed.

Indeed, D'artra only took a moment to blink in wonder before Pedrius doubled over, clutching the sides of his head as if insane. She stood with fluid grace, a calm nuetral expression mingled upon her pale features. There was a dancing fire within her dark eyes as she reached her arm out towards his face again.

Instantly the vile dark material twisted about her and formed a sleeve, reaching towards him with a strange joyous celebration at his more savage nature. Yes. It liked him. And when it brushed his flesh with her fingertips he felt a corresponding jolt of darkness. As if the feeling within him was calling to something deep within her. Something within her blood...within her soul.

"Are you awake?" There was a strange clarity in her voice, a whisper of someone that had been well aware of hiding this strange dark something within her.

D'artra stretched her arm out to the side casually, letting the muscles strain over the still tender area of her chest. Her sternum was sore and tight, though what could be expected... she'd been stabbed straight through it!

Her dark eyes glanced up to regard him. It was strange. She'd never seen quite an interesting display of change in such a short time. Truly he was a marvle to behold.

"You chose to follow all on your own." She couldn't hide the smirk that kissed her gentle pale features. Oh yeah, she was amused. It had been so long since someone had called her 'wench' with that sort of vindiction. "And don'tcha know? Blame is only something for children and god... which are you claiming to be?"

D'artra was quick to keep pace, her curiosity not yet quelled. "Wait!"

She darted in front of him, her dark eyes filled with shadowed secrets. The cloth of her gown twisted and rippled, vile cloth with a blacker-than-black evilness sewn into it pulling at the wind. "I've... I've never met someone both gifts have liked before. I... I want to go with you."

She gave a soft sniff then regretted it, scrunching up her nose in distaste. "But first you need to clean that forsaken armor of yours."