Link: https://www.sylestia.com/forums/?thread=99346&page=11#106 Author: Aphelion Time Posted: 9/12/2021 at 4:34 AM All windows close, shutting and locking with a series of whirs and clicks, until the two of you are in an airtight cabin. The plane picks up speed, making the already bad bumpy ride even worse, until the strangest sensation hits you. Your stomach sinks, not in the uncomfortable way, and a pressure starts to push you into your seat. The bits and pieces in the back of the cabin shift, sliding even further back, compressing into each other. The nose of the machine is turning up, and soon you can't see the reddish brown of the ground anymore, only the bright blue of the sky. Baje is laughing, pushing on the stick she's holding to its furthest, screaming, "YEAAAAAHHHH!!!" The next thing you know, you are airborne. You no longer feel the earth beneath the wheels of the plane, no more rocks and pebbles to bump you out of your seat.

Oris coudnt stop himself from laughing with Baje of course he was a bit too ackward to yell but he was sharing the sentiment as the plane started to glide on the wind without any suport from the ground bellow. It felt somwhat familiar tho the memory itself was eluding him compleately, he could feel like a long time ago he had already experienced this in others conditions.

Once more, he found himself mesmerised by the senary, what could he say he was one to enjoy the changes in the world around him no matter how small or large. Speaking of changes, some questions came to his mind tho he decided to just merge them into one before voicing anything. "So, uh, Baje, is there anything i should know about the place we are going too ? I just dont want to cause any issues due to my lack of knowledge. "

She looks slightly crestfallen when you choose not to address her as mother, although she doesn't question or admonish you. Seconds later, she is back to her cheerful, chippy self, pulling you along energetically. "I would like to know more about you, Falcon," she says. "If you could have anything, what would you prefer for dining? In Seraphys, it is most common to have the six part meal, although if you truly wish it, I could provide the formal eight part meal. I also understand that visitors tend to like three part or even just a single dish - hard to imagine! - meal." She loops her free arm around yours. "What of bedding? What colour do you like? I could have your sheets made for you at short notice. Silk? Perhaps velvet? Damask?"

The two of your travel some more, passing various structures half hidden in the trees. Another one of those stone ring structures, an empty watchtower, a really tall tree with what looked to be a rope course around it. You are getting closer to the mountain you saw earlier, and soon it eclipses the sun, casting shade on you and your surroundings. The air is cooler here, and easier to breathe.

The procession moves in the direction of the light - the camp. All the warriors are walking sure-footed against the ground, showing no sign of struggle or stumbling, but you don't know how they manage it. The earth is soggy and wet, slick and slippery at times, sticky and sucking your foot in at other times. At one point your shoe sinks into the mud so deeply it nearly falls off when you try to pull it out. The warriors escorting you don't make a comment about it.

Soon, you make it to the camp. The rain is still thundering down from the skies, but as soon as you pass the outer few tents, you feel miraculously dry. You look up and find an invisible barrier of sorts above everything - not a cover, really, since the rain just disappears once it passes a line, instead of hitting something solid and sliding to the sides. You are cold, wet, and shivering, while everyone else is fine. A fire blazes at the centre of the camp and even at a distance, you can feel its welcoming warmth.

Around you, people cluster around, watching curiously. They are all looking at you, but when you try to meet their gazes, they pretend as if they were focused on something else. Many come forth to the woman at the front, smiling and holding their hands out in greeting.

"Ehhh," she says - yells, rather - over the thrum of the engines. "We're going to a little place called Heftshold! Nobody really cares what you do or say there! You'll find all sorts of people and creatures much more exciting than an inconspicuous traveller who happens not to know a lot about the place - not that those people don't come along, so you'll be fine!"

You travel for a long time in the air, covering leagues of ground, but eventually you lose sense of your bearings. Everything looked the same, just red-brown sand with the occasional canyon breaking down, or a few weird knobby rock structures surging up from the ground, sometimes forming majestic arches. Dotting the expanse of earth are clusters of shrubs and green things that look like plants, but didn't have leaves, looking like thick poles stuck into the earth.

Soon, in the distance, you see a splotch of darkness against the sky. They are clouds. Black clouds.

"What am I? ... What am I..." The creature echoes, rumbling the ground beneath your feet. A stream of dust and pebbles rain down from the overhang above, immediately caught and borne away by a gust of freezing wind that has you shivering and drawing your hands around yourself. The head turns toward you, and the nostrils flare, puffing out a gust of air. The air is warm and settles around you, providing a tiny bit of relief against the cold.

"I am..." It inhales, a sound like rocks cracking and crashing, "... a dragon." Its eye swivels around in its socket, then comes back to rest on you. The dragon extends its head, snaking against the ground, until it is so close that the tip of its muzzle almost bumps into you. "I do not... know you. What are you... doing here?" This close, each word shows scissoring teeth and a deep tunnel down its throat.

Link: https://www.sylestia.com/forums/?thread=99346&page=12#114 Author: Aphelion Time Posted: 9/16/2021 at 11:28 AM The procession moves in the direction of the light - the camp. All the warriors are walking sure-footed against the ground, showing no sign of struggle or stumbling, but you don't know how they manage it. The earth is soggy and wet, slick and slippery at times, sticky and sucking your foot in at other times. At one point your shoe sinks into the mud so deeply it nearly falls off when you try to pull it out. The warriors escorting you don't make a comment about it. Soon, you make it to the camp. The rain is still thundering down from the skies, but as soon as you pass the outer few tents, you feel miraculously dry. You look up and find an invisible barrier of sorts above everything - not a cover, really, since the rain just disappears once it passes a line, instead of hitting something solid and sliding to the sides. You are cold, wet, and shivering, while everyone else is fine. A fire blazes at the centre of the camp and even at a distance, you can feel its welcoming warmth. Around you, people cluster around, watching curiously. They are all looking at you, but when you try to meet their gazes, they pretend as if they were focused on something else. Many come forth to the woman at the front, smiling and holding their hands out in greeting.

Cystal is more then grateful for what little warmth from the fire she can feel. It's been a long day that has been very troubling. She had no idea how she managed to get to this place without food and water much like the leader had said. Crystal knew her story was unbelievable but it was the truth. Looking in the barrier's direction Crystal confirms her earlier suspicions of the leader of the clan having power over water.

Link: https://www.sylestia.com/forums/?thread=99346&page=12#113 Author: Aphelion Time Posted: 9/16/2021 at 11:21 AM She looks slightly crestfallen when you choose not to address her as mother, although she doesn't question or admonish you. Seconds later, she is back to her cheerful, chippy self, pulling you along energetically. "I would like to know more about you, Falcon," she says. "If you could have anything, what would you prefer for dining? In Seraphys, it is most common to have the six part meal, although if you truly wish it, I could provide the formal eight part meal. I also understand that visitors tend to like three part or even just a single dish - hard to imagine! - meal." She loops her free arm around yours. "What of bedding? What colour do you like? I could have your sheets made for you at short notice. Silk? Perhaps velvet? Damask?" The two of your travel some more, passing various structures half hidden in the trees. Another one of those stone ring structures, an empty watchtower, a really tall tree with what looked to be a rope course around it. You are getting closer to the mountain you saw earlier, and soon it eclipses the sun, casting shade on you and your surroundings. The air is cooler here, and easier to breathe.

Momentarily taken aback, he forgets his constant disappointment of Chantille and asks an awed: "Anything?"

He then realises himself. It's a ridiculously broad question, though he's going to offend her more by refusing her offers. "Miss Orsay... your hospitality is very kind, but I'm not used to such extravagance. Just a simple bed, in a simple room, with simple-" they have eight course meals? "-single course meals, for as long as I am welcome until I can figure things out."

He takes in the structures with interest. He has never seen anything like them - he's pretty sure of that despite his sudden amnesia. Most of them look like training sites for the Chasers, but the stone rings leave him perplexed.

Falcon fills his lungs with the cool air, enjoying the change from the sweltering heat from earlier. He looks up at the mountain curiously to get a better look at it. I hope we're not heading too far up its slopes...

At that thought, he wants to add 'preferably a room on the ground floor'. But he's too ashamed to talk about it, so he holds his tongue. Either way, he won't turn down offers, but he isn't going to ask for more than he needs.

You are led to a tent at the centre of the camp. It is the largest and most well-decorated, with streamers and tassels adorning the sides, and intricate patterns of birds and beasts sewn into the cloth. The procession continues forth, the rest of the camp curiously following along as much as they can without being too conspicuous about it.

The boy who had found you holds open the flap of the tent for everyone to enter. When you pass the threshold, everything goes silent, as if the hissing of the rain and the crackling of the fire had been cut off. You find yourself inside a massive space, much larger than what the tent had suggested from the outside. The walls are so far out that you can't see them, and fade into darkness.

The space is lit by hanging braziers of flame, suspended by thin chains in the air between a row of thick wooden pillars wrapped layer by layer with tapestries of various nature scenes. The ground is heaped with ornate carpets that your feet sink into as you walk on it. The woman in front leads the group to a raised platform, on which is a wide wooden table engraved and frilled with gold.

There are three seats behind the table - the middle one raised higher than the rest. In these seats sit three people. A tall woman with dark hair and striking amber eyes looks down on you in the middle, her posture rigid straight yet with grace. On the left, a man with greying hair leans forth, folding his hands on the table in front of him. On the right, a girl who seemed no more than fifteen with curled golden locks and baby blue eyes.

"Matriarch Ensanje," the woman leading the procession bows. Everyone follows suit, the boy, the warriors, and even your guards.

"You will receive what you wish," Chantille says. "It is alright to not be used to it all. You will have time to accustom yourself to your surroundings once you are full and well-rested."

Some more walking later, the dirt path slowly turns into a stone one, and then into a polished one made of tiny white rocks lapped together like the scales of some silver snake. It is smooth under your feet, but not slippery. You would expect it to lead to a gate of some sort, or at least some human structure that indicated an end to the wilderness and a beginning to civilisation, but instead, it leads straight to a cliff face. In fact, it ends at the cliff face, as if the road once continued on somewhere but the mountain was dropped on it.

Chantille walks up to the rocky face as if it was normal, and raises a hand. Light gathers around her palm for a brief moment, then peters out, leaving you to wonder if she had tried something and failed. There's silence, and that possibility becomes more likely by the second, until something happens.

The rock begins to shift, portions of it sinking inward as if it were melting, forming a tall structure of beams and planes, intricate curls of stone becoming clear as the rock moulds itself into a tall door. A crack splits down the middle, and with nary a sound, it swings open, revealing a glittering corridor.