Re: The Mael-man {open}

[Mael Feu]

With everything going on in this strange place Mael had forgotten that he was holding on to Pol's cane. Or, perhaps, he had continued to hold on to it as it was the only thing of substance he could convince himself into believing that it was ordinary. There were some things that he felt he needed on his life, and reasoning was one of them. Rhydin wasn't exactly a place where rhyme and reason flowed in harmony along with logical reasoning, it was a wonder that Mael could survive in this place.

There was a lot to be said of the things that were left unsaid.

E'Lara tried to move as well and, as se asked for help, Mael was momentarily at a lost for how he was suppose to do that when he couldn't even reach her. His chest was still burning and having to maintain a certain level of decorum was really grating; so therefore, when she mentioned seeing something he couldn't, Mael had to ease down the frustration that bubbled in his chest. “I don't see anything.”

For the moment he had turned away from Pol and looked down at the cane he still held, fingers tightening around it. The other mans cane was coming in use as a focus tool. Though it seemed that Pol needed it more than he did as suddenly Mael saw Pol....changing? It was enough to give Mael pause and look at the older man with more than mild curiosity.

When Pol asked for his cane back - stretched out his hand even to try and get it - Mael did not, indeed, surrender it quickly. On the contrary, he continued to hold on to the object and watch the transformation. So. Pol wasn't human and this cane, too, was more than it seemed. While Mael had heard tale tell about Dragons and 'lizard men' in Rhydin, he had never actually seen one until now. This should make him question if there were others about, hiding like Pol was, and he would have. That is, if the nature of the room had not made a drastic change.

“What... the hell... did you do?”

Pol had angered whatever entity was in this place, that's what he did; likely because of the mist-like blood that hung around the former old man. Then Mael saw images, he was almost certain that he did, though they came and went so fast he could not be sure. However, once he saw them, the pain in his chest that had been a simple annoyance was quickly making itself heard. His inner fire was turned up a few degrees more and he let go of Pol's cane to grip at his chest and jacket instead, giving him an edge of fear. What's wrong with me! he thought, it was harder for him to breathe now than it was before the images started closing in on their little group.

When he got out of here, Mael had a mind to kill the one who sent him on this job. The pain he was feeling reflected on his face by way of furrowed brows and he started to breath as deeply as he could to maintain a clear head.

“Let us leave!” He shouted to the light creatures that were closing in on them. Surely he wasn't the only one that wanted out of this place.

[Telguest]

E'Lara

•|•|•|E'Lara was waving her hands and arms like she was trying to do the back stroke in a pool of rushing water. She just wasn't quite making progress in getting herself upright. "Course I understand it. I'm an elf, I speak elvish quite fluently." She presumed that they were all hearing the words in the same language. "Just didn't know that you spoke it." That thought made her smile.

The young man stating that he didn't see anything had E'Lara doubting her own vision. An odd feeling for an elf. "Hmm, nothin huh?" She was still trying to right herself, the arms were not helping, but at least she felt like she was doing something. She hated not being busy with something. Idol hands and all that. But her movements halted when she heard that first crack of bone coming from Rodry.

Slowly, she turned her head to see what was going on. As he began to shift forms before her, her eyes widened to the size of a coin. She drew in a deep breath and held it for as long as she could. Which was surprisingly long. For some reason, she didn't scream. She wanted to, but something inside of her wouldn't let her react in such a way. She had seen shape-shifters before, lycanthropes and the like. But none that she had ever seen before had become a ...

"Dracon!" She gasped now. She had seen but one Dracon before. And she had never seen him with wings, though she had heard tale that he had them. Before she had a moment to think further, the feel of the area changed. Then she heard the words. "Violator? Desecrator? Who?" She started looking around to see what was going on.

The image E'Lara had thought that she had seen, she was now sure she had seen. It was now multiplying and closing in on them. "What have we done? Why are you so angry with us?" She was quite confused. She looked from left to right and even managed to turn a mid air circle to look behind her. She closed her eyes and shook her head a moment. She had seen too many Earth movies. Horrors to be exact. It reminded her of a circle of vampires closing in on their prey.

She looked back to the young man. He had let go of the cane to grasp his chest. But there was no gravity in the room, so it lingered by his side. "Are they hurting you?" She thought for sure that the beings, or images, or whatever they were, were causing the young man some type of injury. "Use the cane, reach out with it to pull us closer. If we stand closer together, we can defend each other and ourselves better." She felt that between her and Mr. Pol, or what had been Mr. Pol, they could protect the young man from whatever invisible assault was upon him.

She looked at the images that were closing in on them, making her feel like she was in trouble and no longer welcomed, and she shouted at them. "Why are you trying to scare us, or hurt us? We've done nothing to you. Why don't you just send us back to our dimension and let us be?" She reached out for the cane in case the young man had heard her words and thought to take her advise. After all, despite her girth, she would be rather easy to pull with the cane given the lack of gravity. The same for Mr. Pol.

[Rodry Pol]

"I do not hear any elven tongue."

It was certainly anything but. How anyone could possibly mistake Draconic for any of the elven dialects was beyond him. It had blue eyes flicking towards Mael, wondering what that man heard, especially considering the fact that he seemed to be so very tense himself. Was he getting his own dose of shock?

Needless to say, while he had caught something in the corner of his vision, he didn't have time to comment, to point out that he saw something even if it defied a close description. The tall human male certainly seemed fine one moment. Yet the next it seemed that hell itself was breaking loose.

The cane was indeed a rather solid object, in more ways than could be attributed to the simple wood and silver construction. The cane was anything but ordinary. While Mael might be trying to use it to focus, as a tool whether magical or mundane, Rodry had needed it, desperately. It's reservoir of magic would have given him the strength to stop the transformation before it took full hold. Before the process went beyond what could be reversed with a little sapping of the canes own innate power.

It had been too late to do anything but let it take over, to let his natural shape try to forge it's way into this void. To tear free of that human disguise with all the fury and pent up energy of a caged animal. The transformation had been anything but smooth. He could remember when he had been able to control that power with such ease, to blend fluidly until his body had taken on the desired shape. The loss of that shape-shifted disguise had been violent and sudden and left him gasping, even if the position he had taken, dropping to one knee and clawing at the 'ground' was only relative. When the place had no direct sense of up or down, it was all relative.

"I didn't do anything, other than learn a nasty lesson about this place."

The once elderly human heard that single word ringing in his head, his body twitching faintly at the sudden hostility that he could hear in that single word. Yet that disembodied voice seemed to feel far more talkative. Rodry, or the draconian figure that had once been the elderly Rodry Pol, lifted his head. Horns thrust upwards into the air, while heterochromic gaze swept the emptiness of the void of light. Previously folded wings once more bursting open, flinging that mist of blood outwards from his form, at least what had remained hanging in the air.

The first words spoken in what most considered his 'natural' shape, revealing the surprising depth. While his human shapes voice was far from high, compared to that reptilian shape, it was positively castrati. His voice was felt resonating in their chest as much as it was heard. The faint growl to his tone made it clear he was far from pleased at this sudden complication!

He had done nothing to rouse such anger, it was not his fault that this place was seemingly devoid of the magic that hung in the air even in New Haven. Never had the dragon known such a place to naturally exist. He remembered many times when he had been working with fragile enchantments and the effort it took to create a circle of void, to push ambient magics out in order to create in a vacuum.

Jaws tensed harshly, gritting his teeth and only slowly letting them part to free his tongue, forked muscle brushing through the air, his powerful figure shifting, or at least trying to. Stretching though of course, this left his stretching out seemingly on his 'stomach'. Though someone with a good gauge of distances and size would likely guessed that fully stretched out, with tail and all, he was likely close to fifteen or sixteen feet long from nostril to tail tip. On his feet he was closer to nine feet, not counting his horns.

Of course, considering that there had been less than five feet separating the three of them before, Rodry was far better equipped now to cross that distance. While he might not be able to move himself, that huge wingspan he sported would certainly come in handy. Now spread wings curled, moving forward and towards the elf and the human male who seemed to be in pain. E'Lara was the farther away of the two, leaving an almost delicate looking wing bone stretching within her reach. While Mael, who had been on Rodry's side of the desk was well within reach of that wings stretching curl. Leathery flesh pressed against the younger mans back, that longest bone hooking on his far side. He wasn't sure if he was drawing himself closer, or pulling Mael to him, regardless he had drawn him in closer. E'Lara's words were wise, indeed. Closer together they had a better chance of defending against this unknown threat. A scent that had been present in the inn was once more on the air. The scent of ozone, of a building thunderstorm filled the air around the dragon who had been hiding in the midst of the inn's guests. His faintly spread jaws revealed small sparks dancing over his teeth, large frame 'crouched' defensively. If E'Lara took hold of his wing, he was speaking as he pulled her in. Swinging her to one side, closer to his cane.

"Grab my Cane."

While it might be a laughable defense in it's current state, he would feel a hell of a lot better with it in hand. While Rodry might have been only a mockery of his former self, wasted muscles were still strong, ancient sickness ravaged scales were still tough to penetrate. Those circling figures earning the baleful glance of that single blue eye, it's slitted pupil narrowing down on those figures in his hemisphere of vision. wedge shaped head turned faintly to keep his good eye upon them. Their chant was no longer comforting, the warmth of this place finding itself contending with a building rage in the dragon that had been drawn into this place and ousted as something that he hadn't appeared to be before. That scent was growing slowly stronger. Though his hand was groping towards E'Lara, searching for that cane that he had bid her grab as he pulled her back into their little cluster of mortality.

The fact that the figures of light seemed intent on closing in on him left him giving a sudden roar. An ear splitting, primal sound that had caused many a being to succumb to the simple force of dragon-fear. That wordless blast of sound quickly forming words, cutting off with a snap of his jaws. He was not going to give more than one warning.

"THERE IS NO DARKNESS HERE!"

That thick mane that sprouted just forward of his horns was starting to bristle, small spines that naturally laid between his scales rising, pointed tips protruding from the silken strands that normally hid them, the hairs iron grey hue, tipped with a rich electric blue hue did little to hide the onyx black of the spines. His free hand was curled, ready to lash out if any of those shifting beings drew too close! Ready to defend himself, E'Lara and Mael if need be. However, that charged lightning was still sparking, ready to leap from his maw.

Anyone that had known him before knew better than to mess with with him.

No one picked a fight with him, no one who wanted to avoid the dragons temper. That powerful tail flicked slowly behind him, whipping, betraying that building rage, his intent.

"Prepare yourself for a fight, if you can."

[Epiphany]

The images that the trio saw were (mostly) that, images; it wasn't the nature of such things to be afraid of threats. Therefore, the warning the Rodry made had no barring and they continued to close in. While on the topic of the figures, it is best to say that they did not take on a more definitive shape or appearance. They were as hard to discern what they were now as when it was only a possibly shape out of the corner of ones eye.

While they were images, they were images of Light. Rodry and E'Lara appeared to have no complications from being here -aside from Rodry's changing ordeal....- so they wouldn't be hurt by the figures if touched. Mael on the other hand, would. Though, this is something the band of three may not know since the images were circled around them all.

There was something interesting being done to any of the blood that may still be hanging in the air, it was coming together. In what may be considered to be the 'center' of the blood in this 'room' it started gathering together into a very tight and compact ball. Sadly, if any blood happened to stain E'Lara's clothing, those samples would not be joining with the rest. It was possibly that one of the groups members, if they were close enough, could touch this forming ball of blood, but they they would have blood on whatever they touched it with.

How was that being done if this place was devoid of magic?

When the figures got a bit closer than arms reach from Rodry's new form, they stopped. Surrounding them with their shimmering image. And the chanting stopped. Everything was still. Absolutely still, the silence being as it was so complete. It stayed this way for more than a few moments, but less than a handful of minutes, all the while that blood ball still in its place.

Then came the voice, spoken to each of them just as it had before: “The Darkness shall give way to it.”

There had to be something about that phrase. I was spoken over and over again, written all along the outside of the box. Perhaps it wasn't so much a saying or chant, but a riddle or answer in the form of a statement. But, if it was an answer, them what was the question?

And, if Rodry was paying attention, that scent which he had smelled on the trunk back at the Inn, was present although just as faint.

[Mael Feu]

Suffice it to say that the closer the Light figures got to Mael, the worst off he became. It had started to feel like a hand squeezing on his lungs to remove the air. Almost like drowning - imagine that, drowning in a room of light. The lack of oxygen had to be making him see things, because it looked like Pol had lightening coming from him. That couldn’t be right.

Mael didn’t know much about dragons, so what he thought he saw could actually be what was, lightening coming from Pol.

He was not going to be much help to them at all and, to top it off, he did not know why this was happening to him. It was something that he hated - being clueless in a situation and without a way to find answers. If he wasn't hurting - or at this point trying to remain conscious - he could have went through a systematic and logical, check for possibilities.

He saw the 'ball of blood' that hung in the air, but, right now, it wasn't on his list of worries.

When the light figures stop their progression, the squeeze upon Mael's lungs stopped as well. It didn't go away, but the pressure stopped and left him unable to breathe more than a fraction of breath at a time and even that was strained. This wasn't any less dangerous. Without the lungs being able to expand, a person could still choke, only slowly. He was turning blue from lack of sufficient oxygen and, if he had been in a place of relative direction and gravity, would have fallen over on the floor. As it were, Mael maintained his current directional position, both hands gripping at his neck.

[Telguest]

E'Lara

•|•|•|E'Lara was just about to speak on the fact that none of them had done anything, in agreement with Rodry's statement, when his wings burst open. The mist of blood and fluids spread through the air in a weightless spray. Suddenly E'Lara found herself spotted with the offending liquid mist. "Ugh ... Do you know how difficult it is to get blood out of clothing?" Her tone held the slightest hint of anger, but she wasn't so much mad as she was upset for the spray. She wiped at her face to remove the few drops that had landed upon her smooth skin. A bath was definitely in order.

When Rodry reached his wing out to her, E'Lara was happy to reach hold of it and let him pull her in. Though she did wrinkle her nose at the condition of him. "When we get out of this, you and I are going to have a long talk about your health young man." Believing that he had been neglecting his health and that was the reason behind the condition of his scales. E'Lara's children might have all been long grown and moved off on their own, but once a mother always a mother, it was what made her so good at her job. And right now, she was feeling overly filled with motherly instinct for these two males. And no one wants to go up against an overprotective mother in any fight.

She managed to get hold of the cane, and she passed it along to Rodry as per his request. But while she was there, she couldn't help but notice the physical stress that the other young man happened to be under. "Mr. Pol, if you could be so kind as to watch my back. This young man is in need of some serious help, and I would rather those things did not get me while I attempt to do so." She trusted Rodry, no matter his form. And she could tell that the young man was turning blue before her eyes. She saw the ball that had formed of the blood when she had glanced at Rodry to speak to him. But she paid it no heed as she had more pressing things to deal with. Turning her head back to the young man she added comment. "If they get any closer, try batting that at them. See how much they like getting sprayed with blood." Not that they could get much closer. Then she reached a hand to the young man.

The young man seemed to be on the verge of passing out. It looked as though he couldn't breathe. This was a cause of worry for E'Lara. Everything got quiet as E'Lara began to check for the young man's pulse. He had not yet passed out, so she knew he had one, she just wanted to know how strong, or weak as the case may be, that his pulse was. The less he was able to breathe, the weaker his pulse would get. He wasn't getting any oxygen. Not only would he end up loosing consciousness, at this rate, he could very well loose his life. That was something E'Lara would not stand for. Then the light, or the images, or something, spoke those words again. "What darkness? Give way to what?"

She reached to the young man's hands that were around his throat as he struggled for breath. "Move your hands boy, let me help." She wrapped her fingers around his wrists and gave a tug. "I promise that I am not trying to hurt you more, only help." She felt the need to let him know this because she noticed that he needed help breathing, and that was exactly what the elderly elf was about to do. She moved in closer to him, and pinched his nose shut. "Trust me." Whispered in a calming tone just before she placed her mouth over his and blew.

It felt like she was trying to inflate a balloon that had a rubber band wrapped around it. She saw no rise in his chest, only a puffing of his cheeks. So she tried again, and again. She was refusing to give up. She did stop long enough to speak to Rodry. "The air is not inflating his lungs." Another check of his pulse and a look into his eyes before attempting more breaths into his mouth. She pulled at the top of his shirt, intending to expose his upper body, being through simply opening the shirt or tearing it, whatever the garment did. She wanted to make sure that there was nothing physical that needed to be removed. She continued to try and breathe air forcefully into his lungs, trusting that Rodry wouldn't let those images touch them while she did so.

Growing tired of hearing the utterances whilst trying to save a life, E'Lara blurted out. "Darkness gives way to the light. So what of it? Release us and let this child live already. I'm growing quite tired of this Purgatory-esque place. We meant no harm to you, why is it you mean harm to us?" Well, it seemed that only the young man was getting harmed, unless you count Rodry's violent shift of form. But regardless, E'Lara was getting angry. Here she was trying to save a young life, and these images, or the light they seemed to be in, was chanting relentlessly about darkness giving way to it. It seemed to her that something so beautiful and calming should be more polite. After her outburst, she returned to trying to help the young man breathe.

[Rodry Pol]

Images or not, Rodry didn't take well to being surrounded, that much was clear from just how very aggressive his stance was. How viciously he was baring finger length fangs and standing ready with E'Lara and Mael. E'Lara's concerns over the blood on her clothing were hardly of import. She could complain about it if she got the chance to do her laundry again! Considering however the closing of those figures who were making rank around the three of them, a little blood soaking into clothing was likely the least of their issues just now.

Elara and Mael, now near enough to him for the draconic male to feel confident in protecting them, were carefully covered with his wings, as if to shield them, even if the fragile membranes would likely provide little protection against serious attack. The female elf seemed to have some real nerve! Rodry only growled under his breath about her talking about his health.

"Worry about me if we can figure out how the hell to get out of this situation."

Tail lashed violently, swinging warningly in the direction of the light figures behind them. Trying to keep them at bay. Not that they showed much of a reaction to what he had said to them already. The warning had seemed to have fallen on deaf ears. Forked tongue arched out. Tasting the scent of the one he had felt for sure owned the trunk. Though knowing her ... he could only imagine that this place was some other pocket dimension of hers. Though ... it brought to mind a conversation he had shared with her that day after he met the children of Saint Emiliana's. She had talked of a 'box'. They had even discussed it in some detail. She had said it reacted to her direction. Not that it seemed to be working that way for them!

"I'll watch them."

His clipped words coming as he craned his head, taking in the closing figures. The hand that held his cane tensing faintly watching the blood gather in that orb, just as he watched the figures stride closer. Closing in. Rodry's lips drew back in a hiss of warning before that lightning that Mael had been 'imagining' sparked along his teeth again, leaping from his mouth in a sudden arching bolt. The bolt fired at one of the figures to his left, while he let the enchantment on his cane go as well. The heavy stick seemed to strain in his grasp, stretching and shifting as Rodry had. The fist sized sapphire protruding from his fist, forming a pommel, while the length of the silver capped cane grew, the wood losing it's color, becoming a gleaming silver, Crossbar sprouting above his fist. The cane had once more been given it's freedom. Reverting to it's natural form, that heavy claymore that had looked so ridiculous in Rodry's grip in his disguise fit his hand perfectly now, the long handle enough for him to use it with one or two hands. The weapon was swung, the flat smacking through that sphere of blood, trying to sling the liquid at the nearest figures. His back stroke from that swing was aimed at their mid sections. The blade hissing through the air with the deadly intent of cleaving these aggressive figures!

He had no attention to really spare for Mael and E'Lara, after all he imagined he was going to be fighting off a good number of attackers, though of course it seemed that the figures had decided to stop. Had he gotten them to reconsider what they had been planning on doing with the fierceness of his response to their closing in? Perhaps not, but he felt that it may have been the case. He brandished his blade warningly, holding it at the ready. Waiting for them to make a move.

"Stop trying to talk to them, obviously this place is cursed. They haven't responded before, why would they now?!"

Her mentioning of Mael's plight had the dragons good eye directed towards the boy, as if considering what they could do. Rodry didn't believe for a minute that Mael was just having a panic attack, or that it was coincidental that this had started after they had arrived here!

"We have to get him out of here, he was fine at the inn."

Which left them with some pretty limited damned options, considering the fact that while Rodry could cast spells, it quite literally drew upon his very life-force in order to power them. It was why he preferred to make use of quickly placed runes to draw power from the surroundings. Even if he had what he needed, there was nothing to etch the symbols in and worst of all, no magic in the air. It would cost him dearly to even attempt to transport them from this place.

While they had not been aggressive at first, Rodry's anger had gotten the better of him, even if they hadn't shown up with the attention of aggression, it had been displayed after their inexorable approach!

"My patience wears thin and I can't concentrate on much of anything with their noise."

A vicious snarl punctuated his words. As if to tell the figures to silence their chanting when it began anew!

[Epiphany]

Who was being mean to who would all depend on point of view. The way the Light saw it (hypothetically speaking) is that they were the ones harming it, as they had brought darkness inside. Even if it was unbeknown to the group. This is why it had 'attacked' them, or rather one individual.

Fortunately for that person, E'Lara had answered the question that had been put forth.

Sudden silence and then the entire place began to illuminate brighter than before. “The Darkness,” came the Voice. Loud, prominent, and strong. The Light then blared to blinding measures, there was nothing to see, and it would be wise for anyone to shield their eyes less they become blind. This lasted only a few moments, thought may have seemed longer, before the brightness vanished as quickly as it had come. Afterward, the soothing melody returned in a low hum, just out of ear shoot. This place had the peaceful serenity that had welcomed them when they first arrived. The images, that had been circled around them, were also gone. Something else was missing too.

The Darkness. Mael was gone. If E'Lara had been touching him at the time of the blinding light, she would have felt him vanished. There was no sign of where he went, or what happened to him, Mael simply did not exist in that realm any longer. Perhaps the Light was greedy and ate him? Or maybe it had spit him out? No indication, to the remaining two, of what happened to him; only that he was gone.

There was something else different about the room as well. Rodry would pick up on that familiar scent once again, only stronger. In the distance was a figure, not images of Light like before, but an actual person, suspended horizontally in a sphere of Light. Those with sharp eyes would see it was a female, dark blond colored hair and 'asleep'.

[Mael Feu]

Who didn't have 'Receive CPR from an elf' on their bucket list? Mael certainly didn't but, if he had, it would be something he would now be able to cross off. The unexpected things of life.

What happened after that he wouldn't recall, and that is because Mael passed out due to lack of oxygen. If there were any positive to that, it would be that the pain was gone. It's hard to explain exactly what he was feeling except that he felt empty. And there was all that damn light, he could even see it through his closed eyes. Fortunately this did not last long; soon the light was gone and he would have thought that he had died if the pain had not resurfaced.

Mael could breath again and he choked after taking the first real breath of air he had been able to take since entering into that trunk. Rolling over on his side he pushed to his knees and then stood up. Mael was back at the Inn, and the trunk - closed - was next to him. He rubbed his chest and took slow, steady breaths as he looked at the thing that housed the thing that tried to kill him.

Where were Pol and E'Lara? They had been in the trunk with him, yet they were not with him. Reason went against the possibility of them being out before him and letting him alone. "They must still be inside," he mused to himself. One thing was for certain - Mael was not going to re-open the trunk to try and get them out. While he may not know what the writing all around the trunk said, he was pretty certain it was along the lines of what the Light had been chanting, and it tried to kill him.

This trunk had to be important - no matter what he personally thought of his boss, the Snydicate wouldn't have something like this as a joke - and therefore, Mael wasn't going to leave it sitting by the front desk. Aside from that, he had met a man who turned into a dragon and he'll be damned if E'Lara ever got out of there and marked him as an ungrateful ingrate for leaving them to rot in a strange place. He had an appearance to maintain at the Inn until his work there was done and didn't need any ills added to his tab.

So where could he go?

Mael associated Light with holiness, which made his next destination a logical conclusion. Stretching he sighed and then grunted as he bent down and hoisted the trunk over his shoulders and on to his back. He still didn't feel in tip-top condition, but he wasn't going to hang around and wait for someone to come along with a cart.

Out of the Inn, Mael started down the path once more. "Guess I'm going to church."

[Telguest]

E'Lara

•|•|•|E'Lara looked to Rodry when he spoke pf worrying over him later. "You can bet I shall young man." Even given this recent turn of events that showed Rodry to be a Dracon rather than human, E'Lara still felt referred to him as young man because the age of the human form he took was a younger being than she herself.

She frantically continued to try and breathe for the young man in her hands. The light grew suddenly brighter. So E'Lara bent over more so that her head would cast shadow over the eyes of the young man. It didn't help much to protect her own eyes as the light was coming from below them as well, but she squinted her eyes closed tighter and kept on.

That was until he was gone. There one minute, her lips pressed to his, her trying to force air into his lungs. The next minute, the one thing giving resistance was gone from her hands. Her air blew out through her lips in a rush and she nearly lost her balance.

E'Lara immediately shot back up to stand erect. She spun her head around to see where he had gone to, causing her to spin her whole body thanks to the force of her head turning. "Wha ... Where ... Mr. Pol, we seem to have lost our young comrade." She hadn't even registered that the light had returned to normal yet.

It was only after spinning around to find that the young man was gone that she noticed the light had returned to normal. And in noticing that, she also noticed that they were no longer surrounded by the strange images that had been closing in on them. "I guess they responded." She looked around some more, not quite feeling brave enough to move away from Rodry.

But she was still looking about when she noticed a figure off in the distance. She squinted her eyes and leaned her head towards the sight, wanting to make sure she wasn't seeing things. "Mr. Pol. Are my eyes deceiving me, or have we been graced with the presence of a very familiar looking Sleeping Beauty?" She pointed to the being she saw off in the distance.

If E'Lara had known that the young man was now back at the Inn and breathing fine on his own, she would have felt relieved. But as it was, she was very worried over what could have possibly happened to him. Had the light taken him? Had it done away with him? Was he ... Dead? She was very stressed out about it, for an elf.

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