Molten Silver

“Tch!”

Lar-Kashin was not a happy mage.

Lar-Kashin wanted his box.

The dark figure glowered at the image in the black mirror.

Why did he ever trust some soft, squishy, stupid merchant?

Now those soft, squishy, stupid bandit's had his box.

Well, he just couldn't have that.

The dark figure waved his hand, dismissing the image of the bandit camp. In it's place he called forth another image, that of a young man.

“yes, my lord?” the man said.

“boy, I have another task for you. Just some clean up, and a retrieval”

“Yes, my Lord.”

the smile that split the figure’s face would have shocked anyone who thought they knew him.

Lar-Kashin would have his box.

He grinned.

Lar-Kashin was a happy mage.

“Tch.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Grail sank deeper into the inner depths of his mind. As his muscles relaxed it almost felt as if he was sinking into the ground beneath him. Deeper, and deeper, as the stars swirled over his head.

Suddenly, he was in his homeland, or at least in the image of the place his inner conscience felt most comfortable. He felt a stirring behind him, and turned to face it. Golden scales

shimmered in the moonlight, as if they were a mirage in front of his inner eyes.

“Hello, Sifu,”

“Hello, Grail.” The large gold dragon didn't need to move it's mouth, it's words resonated in his mind.

“I take it you are ready for more training, child.” Grail nodded and they began.

Every move the dragon made, Grail matched. As the dragon swiped with it's claws, Grail copied it with his sword, As the dragon swept it's tail, Grail swept his leg. This went on for seemingly hours, perfecting his technique. And soon enough, his master left, and he drifted off to sleep.

Tomyris's hand on his shoulder told him it was time to wake up, and take his shift on watch.

Second watch was always the hardest and she made sure he was absolutely awake before curling into her own bedroll. Being attacked at night on the road in a trade caravan was to be expected, but the past few weeks had brought more monster attacks than bandit raids. The merchant's were nervous. They knew how to deal with a robber, just give him your stuff and maybe he wouldn't kill you. There was no such reasoning with a pack of rabid knolls.

To make things worse, the guards were getting nervous too. The captain had been trying to calm them down, after all, the more nervous the guards, the more slack their discipline was.

He had been being very careful with them, and what shifts he gave them, saving the most nervy for the dawn shift. They were least likely to be attacked at dawn, and while the guards would still be neurotic enough to be alert, they wouldn't be jumping at just shadows. Grail had a good deal of respect for the young Captain Meuson.

The road the pack train was on led south through a gap in mountain range that nested the town of Falcon's Grove, Grail's usual residence. It was a heavily wooded area, with a good deal of pine trees . It was a perfect ambush point for bandit raids, and this particular area had a history of ruthless attack’s. Grail sighed to himself. If it's such a great point for ambush, why use this road? Unfortunately, this was the only pass through the mountain's wide enough to admit such a large pack train. Funny enough, if the train had split up, it could have used some of the smaller road's, but the idea was safety in numbers, so it came out a wash.

Absently he wondered about all his old friend's, in his homeland. What would Hira say if she could see me now? Especially with a partner like Tomy. Ugh, it would be like Onissa all over again. A sudden shift in the pattern of forest sounds moved him out of his contemplations. Grail stood up, in a ready stance, closing his eye's to concentrate on the sound. He could definitely hear soft footsteps of a humanoid creature padding across the pine needle carpet of the woods. They weren’t shuffling, eliminating the possibility that this was some form of zombie. At the same time, there was only one set of footsteps, and most bandit corps’s sent scouts out in pair's in case, one was captured. The steps grew nearer and he stood perfectly still, waiting for a confirmation, before attacking. Finally the figure came into sight, and Grail let out a breath.

“Captain Meuson, you startled me.” Grail said with a smile. “What were you doing out in the wood's by yourself?” The captain returned Grail's easygoing smile.

“ I was doing some scouting in between the sentries rounds. I don't like being on a road where bandit attack's are so easy.” he said, reflecting Grail's earlier thoughts.

“I hear that, I'm glad we have a captain that take's such precautions. Not many do.” Grail smiled even wider, bidding the captain goodnight, but something didn't sit right in the back of his mind.

“Wandering the wood's in the middle of the night?” Tomyris whispered harshly, over noon meal the next day. “And this didn't strike you as odd?”

“It did, though! That's why I wanted to talk to you about it.” Grail whispered back, harshly. Tomy chewed her apple into submission as she thought about it.

“I guess we'll just have to keep an eye on him the next couple of day's. The first chance we get, though, we should probably follow him.”

It didn't take long for that chance to come, only a week had passed before the pair were able to sneak after him, during the second watch of the night. They quietly stalked their quarry through the dark wood's, a slight breeze causing pine needles to softly rain down on them. The moonlit clearing ahead showed the eerie silhouettes of an empty camp. Grail's eyes pierced the night ahead of him, and yet the shadowy figure of Meuson kept flitting in and out of his vision. As they neared the camp, Grail paused. A slight fog had crept into the formerly clear night, giving him an unsettling feeling. To make things worse, Meuson had disappeared entirely.

He looked back at Tomyris, she was pale, and sweating, despite the cool nigh time breeze. A now familiar sensation had crept into the back of her head, just at the edge of her consciousness. It felt so similar to the copper ore that had laughed to her some weeks before, the day her shop had burned down. This voice was different, however, from the childlike curious voice of the copper. It was older somehow, and sadder, but she had a mission to take care of now, and she nodded to her partner. Together, they crept closer to the empty camp, each making almost no noise on the forest floor. Grail stood completely still as he scanned the area, making sure that Meuson wasn't around before taking a cautious step into the deserted clearing.

The camp was huge, and looked like it hadn't been empty long, maybe two or three days. The barren tent's were horribly mismatched, and what appeared to be loot was spread out on the ground for anyone to grab. Obviously this was a bandit camp, but it looked to be ransacked. Hair stood up on the back of both their neck's. There didn't appear to be a fight, so the bandit's must have left by choice, but what would make, obviously successful bandit's abandon not only their camp, but their treasure. What was more, what did Captain Meuson have to do with any of it. Grail turned sharply, an alarm was going off in the back of his head. This place was dangerous, and they best course of action would be to alert the rest of the caravan to what they had found. He looked over to Tomy again, but the color was not only completely drained form her face she seemed to be in a trance like state.

It had all come upon her at once. A cacophony of dirg-like singing rang through her skull, drowning out all reason. It didn't just call to her, it demanded her presence, and she couldn't help but oblige. She put one foot in front of the other, moving in whichever way made the ringing clearer. The singing was so intense she couldn't breath, all she could do was take one step at a time. She felt hands on her shoulders holding her back from relieving herself of the mournful ringing. Contemptuously she batted them out of her way, she had to get to the source of the sound. She kept walking, the mysterious hand's had attempted to bar her way twice more, and twice more she shoved her way past. Vaguely, she could felt herself, shove aside what seemed to be a tent flap. The singing had reached a crescendo, as she reached for a plain looking box, hidden in a hole in the ground under a rug. She lifted the lid and looked down at the source. It was beautiful. It shined so brightly, she couldn’t help but touch it. Visions flashed before her eyes. She felt the rumble of an earthquake, could feel the searing heat of molten rock burning her face and lungs, human screams added to the confusion of the ringing voice, she could see an army of living dead descended upon the countryside. Just as quickly as it came upon her it departed, leaving only echos of the ringing tones which warped and consolidated forming a single understandable word: peace.