Fantasy Wretched Gears of Time

[Alonthra]

Wretched Gears of Time
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[Alonthra]

Deggalt

This story begins in Deggalt a trading city under the shadow of the gently smoking Wandering Mountain. So named as it has been inching it's way to the northern waters steadily over the centuries leaving destruction bin and a twisted mountain range in its tracks.
Spared being trampled it has made its mark serving as a way station for travel to and from Rol-dul; some 1500 miles to the south. Mud huts sprawl out from a single spire which serves as a air travel base keeping the affluent from having to see or mingle with the poor below. Surrounding the city is grasslands and a few small farms. There are about 1500 permanent residents and several hundred more that are constantly traveling with goods and herds.

Crone​

Usually a quite place, but a day ago was rocked by earthquake and to the south a light turned the night to day. Now villagers try to repair their cracked and battered homes, coral live stock, and find the missing. A travel worn wagon hobbling its way into town gets many a stare as few have seen the giant elk that pulls it. The old woman holding the reins sleeps as the beast pulls along seeming to know where it needs to go. The elk halts in a secluded corner of the market and gives the diver's perch a swift kick. The Old woman woke with a start. "What?! Who's there!?" Her voice was worn but light. "Oh we are... somewhere!" She squinted through milky white eyes at those still staring at her. She smiled mischievously, and with inhuman speed, lept into the back of the wagon. With a pull of a leaver the wagon unraveled itself with a burst of dust. Fade signs and crooked counter Revealing her strange offer of wears. "Welcome! The Lost and Found Emporium! I can tell you lost something. Tell Crone your troubles and she will fix it! Guaranteed." The crowd stared a moment before moving on. Crone, not at all dismayed by the lack of interest from the crowd, began to rifle through her mess of things. Before looking back to the market people. "Anyone know how to fix a broken wagon wheel?!" paused a moment for a reply. "No? Very well Very well." A few grunts, clangs, and bangs later The old woman was back out with tiny hammer in hand beating away at a broken wheel only making matters worse. "How does this work? Do you make a square thing round or a round thing square?..." She continued to mumble to herself as she hammered away until the last sliver of woods broke away causing the wheel to collapse under the weight of the wagon. The people in the market seemed to not have seen or heard the commotion. "Damn it!" That they did hear, and a few men looked to see if she was crushed under the wheel. Finally someone at least got her wagon on blocks until a new wheel could be fitted. She was lucky the damage wasn't worse. "Well thank you. Took you long enough. would you like me to help you find something make something. I have toys if you have children." the man looked at the heap of what looked like junk and just walked away as quickly as he could.

 

[Fischer]

The loud crack of a wheel snapping off another old wagon woke Ragaston from his nap. He had been up all night tinkering with various parts, he had found a few towns south, and fell victim to the tired eyes he had known all too well. After sleeping for what felt like a decent amount of time, he figured it was a good idea to check on all the commotion. Walking over to the broken down wagon, people were repairing there homes or businesses all around, from the earthquake not too long ago. With one bad eye, he had to get close to truly see what was going one, and when he was close enough his eyes widened. It was a traveling trader, with trinkets, and toys. Ragaston was eagerly waiting for the wheel to be fixed so he could talk to what appeared to be an older lady. She seemed frail by first glance, but her actions said otherwise. She was also a bit too happy for Ragaston. The time had come however and Ragaston stepped up to the wagon and began looking at all she had to offer. He had seen traveling traders before, but there was something special about this old lady.

With the feeling she was watching, he spoke, " Uh, I like the trinkets, but was wondering if you sold spare parts, to fix stuff? You know, like small gears, or hollowed out bits of metal?"

 

[Obsidian]

Darkness. Complete darkness. Whether it had been an eternity of this or merely a few moments, it could not be known. But for Elathin, it felt like an eternity in this moment, just the ever expanding darkness that did not seem to have an end. He could not think, he could not feel, he could not hear anything. All he could do is stare into darkness. And his senses would not return until a great flash of light blinded him.

When the light faded, Elathin would find himself staring up at a wooden ceiling, a ceiling that curved upwards with support beams following suit. When thought returned to Elathin, he would blink, suddenly wondering where he was and how he got here. His gaze would fall from the ceiling to the room, finding himself laying on a simple but moderately comfortable bed, wooden walls and wooden furniture surrounding the young prince, with small and strange knick-knacks laying on dressers and tables and hanging from the walls. Small windows would welcome in the sunlight, flowing in like perfectly straight streams, the sunlight being the only thing familiar to Elathin. And he would notice someone talking outside, a woman, though her voice was smothered by the background noise.

Alarms would ring in Elathin's mind, trying to recall any memory that could tell him how he got here, but he remembered nothing of worth. The last thing he could remember was standing on the sky rail of his palace home, readying himself for a flight, and then he woke up here. He... vaguely remembers sleeping and of an endless darkness, but, from his perspective, standing on the sky rail to waking up here seemed instantaneous. Elathin would pull himself up, a sudden feeling of weakness then coming over him, which was most odd. Elathin was healthy, he certainly never suffered from any serious illness in his life, and yet he felt strangely exhausted. Despite this, Elathin would sit himself up before pushing himself to stand, which required more effort than it ever did before.

Once Elathin stood, he would then step into the centre of the room, and he would very carefully stretch his wings, mindful not to knock anything with them. As his wings stretched, he would feel that they were uninjured, which proved to be a relief. He had not been poached, then, for surely poachers would have broken his wings to ensure he could not fly away. With the health of his wings confirmed, he would fold them against his back again, and then he looked to the door. Elathin did not know whose home this was, or where in the world he was now. But it was time to find out.

The young prince stepped over to the door, took hold of the handle before turning it, and then pushed it open before stepping out.

 

[Alonthra]

Crone saw a young individual looking at her stall out of the corner of her eye. "Ahhh a fellow tinker!" She smile a wrinkle cunning smile with a full set of pearly whites. She dove into some crates and started pulling out smaller sorting boxes. "How small you looking for? What do you need fixed? I have gears the size of a wagon wheel to ones scarcely smaller than a freckle." She suddenly grabbed one of his hands and looking it over thoroughly. She then looked at him hard with white pupilless eyes. "I know just the thing. Wait here I know just the part you need." She turned And rushed up the steps to the door on her wagon and home. Only to have it open before her. Speed played a factor as she ran head long into a strange figure the two tumbling head over heals into the hallway. Boxes fell over metal clanged to the floor. Yet the old woman scarcely noticed. "Darn mess! You think you could do some cleaning shadow! Now where is that what-a-ma-whos-it?" She got back on to her feet paying no mind to what she ran into and rummaged until the pulled out a half broken wined up toy. "Here it is!" she then rushed back out jumping over the figure in her wagon. Before closing the door again she looked back blinked at the figure as if she saw something but decided it was just her imagination.

Back out side Crone returned to her customer. "What you are looking for it hard to find indeed." She pulled out a fine screw driver and started to take apart the toy methodically. "Not many people have a use for it's kind any more. Few of the clocks that once used them still exist. But!" She put down the screwdriver. and took up a set of fine tweezers. "But innovators like us can never seem to find enough uses of them." She pulled out a delicate cog. Shiny like silver but strong like steel. "I believe this is what you are looking for. So what you you have for trade? Perhaps a spare wagon wheel? I seem to be in need of a new one." Her thoughts wandered for a moment. "You need more than just this...." she pulled a small box filled with small and tiny gears, and then paused. "no no... Darn it shadow what did you do with..." She grunted to herself before smacking her hand on the table as if she were swatting a fly. Only a keen eye would have seen her shadow reach for the box interdependently of her hand. "It might be in the back. Perhaps you can help me look. Just watch out for this one. She is in a mischievous mood today." her thumb pointed over her shoulder to the shadow she cast on the side of her stall. "Well come on. You don't have all day, or if you do no point in waiting. She held the door open for her customer.

 

[Fischer]

Looking toward this woman as she sped around her wagon, was quite the show. She appeared to be in her seventies or older, yet had the speed of someone Ragastons age. She only took a minute away from him but came back with a toy. Being a tinkerer Ragaston was pleased when wind up nob on the back of the toy. With a small grin, he began watching as the lady fiddled with a screwdriver. She appeared to be talking to nothing, but something indeed. With interest, he looked at the piece she had pulled out of the toy, and with a smile, he nodded a satisfactory nod. She had been asking questions this whole time, but Ragaston never seemed to have the time to answer. He had traveled a lot but never had he seen such a vibrant and "fast" elderly woman. Now there were always ways to get jacked up if you wanted, but at her age the idea of using smokable enhancements was absurd. She just so happened to have all her teeth, which were a vibrant white color and she was decently healthy-looking.

In Ragastons travels, he had seen all shapes and sized, types and breeds of people and animals, but this lady stood out. There had only been one maybe two similar to her. Back in a small town three-hundred plus miles west of Deggalt was a man, who seemingly called himself Trin. He was old and just like the lady, he was fast. He too seemed to watch his shadow from time to time and even spoke to it like another person. It was perplexing, but none the less fun to watch. In retrospect he just considered Trin to be a senile old man. Never would he expect to see another like Trin so far away.

The older lady looked at Ragaston and asked if he could come inside. Ragaston had already pocketed the small piece he was shown earlier, but now she wants him to come inside this broken wagon. The lady wasn't threatening, but as a traveler, he grew to not trust people. There was this feeling though as if he was being called into the wagon. He noticed this trance-like mindset and stopped. "Wait, I don't know you or what you do besides sell and trade things. Why should I come into your shop, aren't you supposed to know where your stuff is? And this shadow you mention, you said to watch out for it? I know we live in an age of magic, but that's just the thing, why would a magician be selling trinkets? Who are you and what's your name?" With determination, Ragaston stood his ground waiting for this lady to open her mouth. 'What's going on and why did she just so happen to appear in Deggalt the same time I did,' Ragaston thought.

 

[Obsidian]

The moment that Elathin opened the door, he would suddenly be barrelled into by an unknown figure, knocking him to the floor where he handed hard, eliciting a growl and a whine, the impact of both the figure and the floor leaving him aching. And yet, somehow, the figure seemed not to notice this at all, almost as though Elathin was not even here. He looked over to find that the figure was a woman, and an old woman, one that did not have wings. She was mundane. The old woman would leave, jumping over both Elathin and the mess around him, leaving through the door again. Elathin struggled back to his feet, stepped out through the door to find not just the old woman but a young man there as well, one the prince did not recognize and who wore very strange clothing. And he too was mundane. Now Elathin was starting to become aggitated.

"Who are you people and what am I doing here?" Elathin said, his voice betraying his weakened state, and his distress, "Have you kidnapped me? What have you done to me?"

And once again, they did not hear him, they did not see him. He was invisible to them. "Are you both deaf or just ignorant?!" Elathin raised his voice, giving out a gutteral groan, and again they blanked him completely. The Prince then attempted to grab the old woman, to gain any kind of attention at all, but, to Elathin's surprise, his hand went straight through her arm like she were immaterial. The Prince's heart hammered in his chest after that, looking at his hand in shock and, surely, he could see it. His hand was translucent. He wasn't real. This revelation broke down this strange reality the Prince found himself in, the world around him suddenly growing dark, the skies above turned red, the grass and trees and people and buildings all around Elathin crumbled away into dust, leaving nothing but a lifeless hellscape in all directions. And then he heard ticking, the ticking of a clock. When Elathin turned around, he saw a great round clock that stood the size of a mountain, and all he could do is look at the clock in horror as it's endless, maddening ticking rang in his ears.

And then, Elathin woke up with a scream.

After he released he was elsewhere, the young prince looked around, finding himself in a very different place. He was in a room, one filled with beds with people laying in them with covers over them, with more people walking around in white clothing. Everyone here were mundanes too. Elathin's scream drew their attention, and one of the people in white rushed over to him.

"You are finally awake." This one said, a man in all white clothing, and his look was one of concern, "That is good to see. You have been unconscious for days, since you were brought to us."

"Where am I?" Elathin muttered, looking around anxiously, working himself up in his distress, "What am I doing here?"

And then Elathin looked down on himself, a twing of pain drawing his attention, and there he found himself bandaged over his chest, strained red with his blood. "W-What happened to me?!" He called out, his voice cracking.

"Hey, it's alright, you are safe here." The man in white said, though his reassurance did nothing to calm the prince, "You were found about four days ago outside the town. You were in a pretty terrible state. Those that brought you here said that you fell out of the sky, and you were unconscious when they got to you. We did all we could, but it seems to have been enough to save your life. As for where you are, this is the town of Deggalt. Do you know Deggalt?"

Elathin didn't know anything that this man was talking about. He had never heard of any such place before. And that strange nightmare haunted the prince. Elathin threw the covers off of him, pulling his legs over the edge of the bed and pushing himself to stand, but the man in white tried to stop. "Wait, you're still very weak. You should rest." He said, "Don't exert yourself."

But the man in white would be ignored, Elathin pushing himself back onto his feet, his wings now given room to stretch somewhat, and they certainly drew stares from everyone around. "I wish to leave." Elathin said, determination in his eyes, "I want to go home."

"Very well. We will not stop you, even if leaving now is foolish." The man in white said, "We have your things secured. Come with me. I can help you dress."

 

[Alonthra]

Crone wrung her wrists when her customer mentioned magic. It was a forbidden thing. Very forbidden. It was one of the reasons she hated cities and places that had some sort of official enforcement. She walked towards him as calmly as she could, and with an oddly cheerful but quiet voice she said, "Trying to get Crone killed and take her wagon? Tried of carrying your home on your back? So what if i talk to shadow. It either her or Elk." The great beast looked back at the two and grunted. Crone then spoke up to a normal speaking volume. "No such thing Magic. Hobbknobs and fairy dust!" she spat in the ground. "Gears and springs! Ah! I remember were it is now!" her crooked fingers reached into the turban on her head. She clutched something in her hand and looked around for anyone that may be eavesdropping on the conversation. Satisfied she cupped the object close to his face. In her hand was a small gear intricately designed with a small blue gem in the middle. "Now this... yes this is a fraction of centuries past. A relic of true fantasy. This is the core of an ancient clock. The stone in the center in a energy crystal. Highly coveted. Though I fear this one has lost its power. As with so many things..." her voice grew sad as she spoke before trailing off into incomprehensible gibberish. "I'm sure you have some use for it. It is too precious a thing for my uses." She took his hand and gave it to him forgetting to ask for payment. Her attention suddenly drawn to something behind her.

"Who are you people and what am I doing here? Have you kidnapped me? What have you done to me? Are you both deaf or just ignorant?!"

"Who are you calling ignorant? Crone may be old but she is not deaf." There was nothing there. She lost her train of thought. She started to sort through some things before she realized she had a customer. "Hello dearie. Welcome to the Lost and Found Emporium. If you have lost something I can find it." She forgot who he was and what they had been talking about. Something had rattled her, but she didn't know what it was. She was calmer but clearly agitated by something. Her breathing steadily grew faster. She felt faint but pushed herself to keep going. "Focus focus.." she commanded herself.

 

[Fischer]

"Crone" he whispered. Travelling had brought about several stories and legends, but crone was something he had hardly ever heard, and when he did here the word it only came out of lack of sleep. It was a name, a name of some so-called trader, but potentially magician.

"Ahh yes I will find a use for the gear, it's small enough to work with. Oh, thanks for answering my questions I guess?.." He was rather shocked to hear her somewhat answer. She did mention her name, but it was as if she was so focused on him calling her a magician. Honestly, Crone grew more and more peculiar ever second, and Ragaston having a fast way out with hopping on any train, he was free from the law.

"Yeah focus, focus. We need to talk. I find you to be a little too odd for just a trader, and can't help but think you have...ummm....abilities." He went into a whisper not to scare her. "So honestly why don't we go ahead and find you a wheel and we can leave town together? Besides, I need to keep moving and we can talk freely on the road." He began to turn away. "I'll get the wheel, hold on." Ragaston now left into the woods, gathering sticks he began placing them in a circle with supports going through the middle he closed his eyes and chanted. Eyes open now and in front of him was a wheel forged by an alchemist. Though it wasn't the fanciest, it would hold so long as it was the correct size. Now running back to Crone, "Here I found this in the woods, it's a good spot for people to trash old parts they don't need. Does it fit?" He handed the wheel to her in hopes that she couldn't tell he was lying. "I have to go get the rest of my stuff, I'll be right back."

Running off, Ragaston went back to where he was sleeping and picked up a canteen of water and a small vial of something he had picked up in the last town. It was a substance used to stay up for long periods of time, and while it did have negative effects he figured it would be decent to try. Putting the vial in his pocket he remembered the parts Crone had "given" him. Pulling them from his pocket he took a small, tinkered with creation, out of another pocket. Sizing parts he smiled and put them both into the same pocket now.

Ragaston had all of his belongings now and was headed back to Crone. On his way back he chanted, "ad tecta reducit, partum, restituet." He felt warmth in his pocket and could hear the sound of alchemy at work.

"I'm back, has the wheel right?"

 

[Obsidian]

The man in white showed Elathin out of the room of bed and into a smaller side room, showing Elathin to his belongings, the man in white turning to Elathin as he speaks. "These are all you had on you when you were brought to us." The man in white said, presenting Elathin with his clothes, boots, and his sigil ring, "Allow me to help you into them."

It took a bit of time, but the man in white would help Elathin dress, before handing over the sigil ring. "You are no ordinary angel, are you?" The man in white said, though Elathin did not know what he meant by the term, it was not a term used in Casadore. Elathin would raise an eyebrow, "Angel?"

"Is that not what you are?" The man in white asked, "You have wings and yet you are human in form. You are an angel. Is that not right?"

Elathin did not know what to say. Is that how mundanes speak of Casadorians? The Prince chose to ignore the question, taking the ring and slipping it back onto his middle finger on his right hand, looking down on it and finding the familiar sigil. He has to find a way back to Casadore from wherever this Deggalt is in the world. A traveller might know, someone who have explored the world. Surely there must be some of those in this town.

"Where might I find passage out of town?" Elathin asks, looking back to the man in white, "Someone who knows much of the world, and who will be able to direct me."

"There are carriages and caravan travellers that come and go in the markets each day." The man in white informs him, "The markets are in the centre of town, just turn left when you leave our clinic and keep walking up the road until you find the square. If anyone can help you, they would be there."

Elathin nods, before the man in white starts to show the prince out of the clinic, and he follows close. How precisely Elathin got out here is not as important as getting back home. Once he returns to his royal father and Steward mother, the matter can be investigated, but for now he must make his own way home. He wondered about his parents. They must be losing their minds with worry.

Soon enough, Elathin was shown to the door, and the man in white gives his farewells before Elathin heads off to the markets as instructed. The moment he stepped out of the clinic, all eyes in the street were upon him, mundanes in all directions growing fixated on his wings. He certainly did look very out of place in this town, his clothing bright and regal while everyone else wore practical and simple attire, not to mention none of them had wings. Elathin must be far from home indeed for there to be so few Casadorians out here. The thought made him rather homesick. Elathin made his way to the markets, people all around him pointing and staring, whispering around him while others gawked in amazement. He decided to pull up his hood and hasted his steps, even if the exertion pained him. Soon enough, though, Elathin would arrive at the markets, and the matter of attention being upon him grew all the worse. There were so many people where, it was almost overwhelming.

Elathin would eventually find something he could use, a port of caravans and carriages, simple though they may be. Mundanes use them to travel, such a simple form of transport and nowhere near as fast as flying, but such is the cost to the mundane's physical limitations. He would go from one to the other, asking the mundane travellers the direction to Casadore, but none seemed to know.

"Sorry kid, never heard of it."
"I do not know, sorry. Maybe someone else would know?"
"Casadore? Don't you mean Condelore?"

He had no luck at all. None of them seemed to know Casadore, which was bewildering. Casadore is not insignificant, it is a well known and prosperous kingdom, renown for it's powerful wind magicians. It seemed all too strange that no one here even heard of the place, let alone know how to get there. And then, passing him in the market, Elathin saw something that almost stopped his heart. He had to look and stare for a few moments to even be sure he was even seeing it. That man in his strange nightmare, the one in the bizzare attire, he was walking through the market. Prophetic dreams are meaningful, manifestations of deeper magic in existence, said to show those who are lost towards the right path. Elathin was certainly lost, and he needed to be shown the right way. He soon hurried along, chasing after the strange man as best as his injuries could allow, but Elathin would soon find himself winning a whole other kind of attention. The unfriendly sort.

The young Prince hurried after the man, doing his best to weave through the crowds in the market, soon finding that the man had headed towards something else Elathin dreamed about. The wagon. The wagon and the old woman, the one that crashed into him. Prophetic the dream was indeed.

tick, tick, tick

"Hey, you, the one with the wings." Elathin would hear, and suddenly he felt a presence upon him, turning around to find who very large men standing over the winged prince, and they did not look friendly, "You don't get your kind 'round these parts, creature. What are you doing in this town, actin' all suspicious like?"

"Creature?" Elathin spoke up, puzzled by the insult, "Who are you calling a creature?"

"Talkin' back to a man of the watch." One of the men said, before looking around, "Causin' a public disturbance. Actin' suspicious in crowded area. I think you better come with us."

"What?" Elathin exclaimed, stepping back, "I'm not going anywhere with either of you."

"Resistin' arrest as well." The other man spoke, reaching for his trunchen, as did the other, their maliciousness becoming ever more obvious, "And look at those eyes. Yellow. They look like magic to me. Maybe we should just take your head and those wings of yours. I bet they'll fetch a fine price. Could make a lot of fancy quills with all those feathers."

The very suggestion of taking a Casadorians wings to sell is completely abhorant, and Elathin's fear very quickly turned to anger. The prince then summoned the element of wind, his eyes flashing in a glow of yellow, sending a blast of air at the two guards, throwing them across the market before they crashed down into the fountain, at the centre of the town square, in a great splash. The people in the market suddenly stopped whatever they were doing and turned to watch the spectacle, then turning to the watchmen in the fountain as one of them pulled himself back onto his feet, now drenched in water, before he pointed angrily towards Elathin and screamed to the top of his lungs, "MAGICIAN!!!"

Moments later, the market erupted into sheer choas.

 

[Alonthra]

Crone worked on the wheel. While the boy ran off and did his own thing. She fogot about him shortly after it was in place. With a heave and a hoe. The wagon was pushed off its blocks and back to the ground. The wheel held up to the weight. Inly time would tell if it would hold up to the road. Crone started to clean up her stall. No one was interested in her wears here. It was not why she came. She needed a new wheel, and she apparently got it. once the junk was loaded back in Crone went up to the great beast of burden. "Well we got what we came for. Time to go before trouble finds us." She gently stroked his velvet nose and he almost purred at her touch.

Footsteps approached behind her. "I'm back. Did the wheel fit right?" the voice of a young man asked.

The old woman turned and addressed the source of the voice. "Don't need a wheel. Shop is closed. Find me on the road or bother someone else if you need a wheel." With things mostly packed. Crone pulled a leaver and the stall folded back into inself, and the wagon was once again ready for travel. Commotion started to brew in the market. She heard someone shout "Magician!" she thought it might be directed at her. "Time to go!" she looked at the boy. He was going to get eaten alive. "Better get in. Things won't go well for you if you stay."
She quickly scrambled up to the drivers perch and grabbed the reins. Before she could tell the Elk to move out it was already on the move. Crone nearly fell out of the seat as the wagon started to barrel through the market.

As the wagon turned to leave the market crone caught sight of the winged figure she thought she saw before. She felt her skin grow cold at the sight of him. "focus focus focus...." she repeated to herself. She pulled Elk into the direction of the winged figure and aimed the wagon at his attackers.

 

[Fischer]

Crone was packed up and ready to go. She seemed to have a more frantic attitude than usual. She was talking to the elk that pulled her wagon and then spoke to Ragaston. She said to get on or he would be eaten alive, but she started going immediately. Then he looked t the crowd chanting "magician" and new he had to get one. Running toward the wagon that was about thirty yards in front of him. He was approaching it with a rush of adrenaline, and just in time managed to grab the back of the wagon. Feet still on the ground he made a final jump and held on just barely of the ground. Pulling himself up he managed to get up to his feet and started inching toward the front. Making it to behind the driver's perch he held on and asked Crone," What's going on? Why is this town so ever to kill magicians? And did you look up at something in the sky earlier?" Confused Ragaston shook his head and found a place to perch his pack, which he used as a seat. He was waiting for crone to escape this eminence focus, she seemed to be entranced in.

While he waited however he pulled the gears out of his pocket. The alchemy had worked, but not as expected. The small silver piece was lodged in between two larger gears, and the energy crystal gear was for some reason stuck to the side of the metal container. There had to be a reason they were in such odd places, but why? 'Could I be wrong, is the silver piece and the energy crystal gear meant to go together?' Ragaston thought. If that were the case, then the hours of work spent to position every gear would have been in vain. With a deep breath, he stood up and looked behind them to check on the crowd.

The crowd was dwindling away in the distance, but a shimmer of back fly up above. With a knock in his stomach, he gave a confused look. Is that what I think it is? Is that a person? No, it was surely a bird. Turning back to face forward he leaned over to Crone once more. "Hey, why so urgent?" He was starting to get concerned, how would the crowd know she was a magician. They surely couldn't have heard him say it.

Full of anxiety he placed the distorted gears back in his pocket, and fiddle around to find his vial. He unpoped the cork top and with a look inside he found crystals. Taking a few out he popped the cork back on top and put the vial back in his pocket. He had the crystals in his palm, and with a squeeze, he crushed them into a powder. Snorting the powder he didn't feel any different. Then, five minutes past and he felt more alive than he ever had.

"CRONE!!! HAHAHA!" He burst into laughter. Then frantically sat down on his pack, fiddling with his fingers with immense speed.

 

[Obsidian]

As soon as Elathin was declared a magician, the entire square erupted into chaos, people screaming and running in all directions, and the whole display somewhat shocked Elathin. He didn't expect such a paltry bit of magic would elicit so much alarm. Mundanes must be fearful creatures indeed. Still, that did not sort the issue of the watchmen now heading toward Elathin, fighting through the crowd to get to him. And then he heard the wagon moving, turning to see it moving, sweeping up beside Elathin before heading towards approaching watchmen, forcing them to jump out of the way before heading out of the markets.

tick, tick, tick

The Prince knew he couldn't let the wagon leave without him, and so he spread his wings before taking a short run after it. With a small burst of wind magic, Elathin launched himself off the ground before landing on the shelf at the back of the wagon, where an assortment of rolled fabrics and other cargo were tied down, Elathin softly landing onto the rolled fabrics before turning back to the square. A number of watchmen now stood in formation by the fountain, holding up strange devices pointed straight for the wagon, and they seemed very much like weapons. Summoning the water element, raising his right hand into a fist, the water at the fountain would rise out of it's basin, before Elathin spread his fingers flat and swept his hand to the left of himself, and so the water did the same, flowing out of the fountain and cascading over the watchmen, knocking them to the ground and stopping their attack.

 

[Alonthra]

Crone was looking physically unwell. Still she tried to push through, and focus on their escape. The Elk knew the way and plowed the way through the streets. The wagon bucked and rocked as it rolled over abandoned bundles and crates from othe stalls and pedestrians. "Move!" she shouted. at the people ahead. "Get out of the way!"

City guard tried to stop them on foot but the wagon was already going full speed. The city gates were closing ahead of them. Elk knew this and put everything he had into getting Crone out. Just making it out before the passage became impassable. However it was too much for Crone. She felt herself slipping and she doubled over clinging to the drivers perch. Breathing swallow and heart rate erratic. The air around her became chared smelling of iron and must like when a storm approached. Her shadow moving of its own accord began to freek out. It scrambled first to Ragaston but he seemed to be having a seizure of his own. It then looked of anything else and soon found Elithin up top. The disembodied Shadow reach for his and gave him a little tug trying to get his attention to the danger Crone was in.

Meanwhile, Crone's form shifted her clothes became much to big for her. Her sight became dark as she grew numb to her surroundings. In time there was nothing left of Crone but her clothes. Under the pile of cloth a young red haired child. Right eye pitch black the other glowing clockwork with gears moving erratically.

 

[Fischer]

Looking around sporadically, shadows moving and a new version of Crone in front. 'Follow the shadow.' Looking on the top of the roof he saw a winged being and immediately sat back on his pack out of paranoia. With the reigns, free of Crone's grasp all Ragaston could think was, 'What?' Confusion and laughter clouded his mind and he began to crackle into a burst of low laughter that sounded as though it was giving birth to a new type of evil. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and everything went dark.

...

Seconds or minutes later he began to see something, but not the wagon or the path they had been traveling on. He began to see darkness. A darkness that wasn't coming from his eyes being in the back of his head. He could make out shapes and saw movement but didn't understand what was happening. Then it happened, in a low tone he heard," Gold gears, Mind fears, Crystal clear." 'What? What does it mean? Hold on..!' Ragaton began speaking in his mind to this voice that was calling out to him. Then out of nowhere, he was surrounded by people in black cloaks that had color, unlike the surrounding darkness. With smiles appearing from the darkness surrounding them, Ragaston screamed in his physical voice. As he screamed he was brought back to the real world and saw the wagon and the path.

'Gold gears, Mind fears, Crystal clear, what did it mean?' He got up and opened his pack to find a leather notebook and a piece of lead. Writing down the rhyme, he couldn't help but think it meant something. 'The energy crystal!'

"CRONE!" out of nowhere imparticular he realized the old lady was now young. He began to hyperventilate and quickly put his notebook and lead back in his pack. Sitting back down he frantically fiddled with his feet and hands. 'The shadow!' He immediately got up to see if the winged creature was still there. Looking atop the wagon he still saw this winged man? With wide eyes, he started to chant and he once again felt the power of alchemy take place. Quickly moving his hands from the wagon top he saw that he had turned the part where his hands were into a shiny silver color metal. He looked back up at the winged being, then sporadically sat back down on his pack and once more fiddled with his hands, rocking back and forth this time. Fear was being to consume his mind.

 

[Obsidian]

Elathin sat there on top of the rolled fabrics, panting as he watched the town walls and it's gate grow smaller and smaller behind the wagon, leaning himself back to let himself rest for a moment. But then he felt something tug on him, his eyes snapped open before looking over his shoulder, only to find some strange shadow creature there tugging on him. With a yelp, Elathin pulled himself away sharply and throwing himself back on his feet, heart hammering in his chest as he stared at the shadow. This day was getting stranger and stranger, but the Prince could discern that this shadow was not threatening, and it appeared to be... pleading for him to follow?

The Prince would follow the creature, cautiously, as it returned to Crone, heading for the front. With the speed that the wagon was going, it would be exhausting to try to fly faster than the wagon, and so Elathin opted for a different move. He walked over to the left side of the wagon, looking over the side of the wagon to map the exterior wall, and then he summoned up a gush of wind. Using the wind, catching it in his left wing, Elathin could run along the left exterior wall of the wagon all the way to the front, grabbing onto a handhold in the front support beam, swinging him around to face the front of the wagon, stopping his swing by putting his foot on the perch. From there, he could see both the strange boy he followed as well as a young girl he doesn't recognise, but, from the look of her, she is about to fall off the wagon. Elathin reacted quickly, stepping onto the driver's perch before grabbing the girl and pulling her back, away from the edge of the perch and towards the wall behind her.

"Are you alright?" Elathin would ask the girl, looking down at her to see her eye, her clockwork eye. Elathin gasped, for he knew what that meant. She's a Steward. But he couldn't tell which one, her clockwork eye was moving erratically, which shouldn't be happening.

 

[Alonthra]

Crone writhed were she lay on the drivers seat. Visions of history flooded her scenes. The first sun rise. Now a coronation. The life of the tree that made the wood of the wagon. The doe whose skin made the leather of the reins. A woman with a cat like face kneeling at her feet. So much between that she couldn't make sense of anything. She screamed but all sound was lost to the chaos. She tried to move but was bound. She looked to her hands iron chains held them out stretched her feet as well. In the chaos a small black hole appeared growing larger. She could not help but stare into it as it's malice poured forth. Growing ever larger swallowing all she could see. She struggled as she felt herself being pulled into it's depths.

"Crone!" She heard a voice call out, but she could not tell from where. The a gentle touch pulled her a way from the darkness. The abyss retreated. Visions returned. She is brought in chains to a castle. Priests greet her and take the chains off. A throne room King and Queen embrace her. A bedroom the King hovers over her. A child, a beautiful winged child. He is taken from her by the Queen. Shouts. "The prince is gone." Screams, Boots in the hall, a voice behind her, "They must not take Her Grace Steward alive." White hot pain in her chest. Blood so much blood. "Brothers, I'm sorry..." Darkness but a restful one there is no pain and no fear. It is more a dense fog than true darkness. She hears something in the mists. "Hello?" her voice echos. A different voice repeats her call. Hello. It is so far away she cannot make out who or what it is. A second and distinctly different voice responds. Hello. Crone calls again her voice apprehensive. She tries to find who or what is in the fog with her. Someone is in here with her she hears them moving. She starts to run. Her feet fall out from under her.

Falling in the vision, Crone wakes with a start. "AAAA!" The child youth gradually faded aging back to the old woman. The turban fell off during her fit. The red hair now gray streaming in the wind. "What.. What..." She looked around focusing her eyes. She looked around and saw her shadow. "Thank you old friend I'm better now." She then realized someone held her in their arms. Crone did not recognize them, but for some reason started to cry. However, she didn't seem to take notice. She looked behind them and didn't see anyone chasing them at the moment. Soon the wagon would be out of sight of the city. Elk would choose where to go from there.

Crone looked at her fellow passengers. "I'm starving." she said and open shutter like doors behind the driver's seat, and began rummaging inside the clutter that was her home.

Inside the dwelling was much larger than than it should have been. Inside was a full dwelling crammed with random objects and toys. A large fire place with plenty of room for prepping food, but covered in soot. A staircase leading up to a small bedroom and washroom. "Shadow, look for the tea while I find the pot." the shadow once again affixed to Crone's form opened cabinets and lifted small jar lids while Crone rummaged through the soot covered crates by the fire pit.

 

[Fischer]

Already paranoid, a winged humanoid was now by Crone, and what was a young girl turned back into an elderly woman. Fingers racing he watched as the, back to normal, elderly Crone began rummaging around a larger than before room inside the wagon. Watching as her shadow went one way and Crone the other a sense of peace rushed over him, peace of mind now that Crone was back. This winged one however still concerned him. Not knowing anything about him, of course, brought about instant lack of trust and while he didn't trust Crone either, she did allow him to ride on the wagon. Eyes now flickering for no apparent reason he began to wonder, 'The winged one and Crone had to know each other.' Why else would he have appeared in a dire moment, and hold Crone long enough for her to return to her older self? The question remained the same, but none the less Crone was back in a conscious state.

Looking at the winged one Ragaston spoke, "What's your name and why did you help her?"

Now having Crone mention tea, Ragaston moved into the wagon for the first time and started to frantically look around the room at everything in his sight. He was tapping his fingers on his legs and felt a surge of unwanted adrenaline shoot all over his body. He still wasn't finished with his so-called enhancements but was at least out of mental darkness. Positioning his pack on the ground inside, he pulled his gears from a pant pocket once again. Sitting with fiddling fingers he couldn't repair the clock, but he could look at the energy crystal in the gear and wonder what power it could bring once restored. He tapped the crystal and suddenly realized something he never had.

'Magician' They were speaking about the winging one. Ragaston began to strain the muscles in his neck and fists, and he slowly started to think one thing, 'Mom, Dad, Magic.' At the age of seven, he was left on the street by his parents, but at the age of fifteen, he learned his parents had been killed by using dark magic. He could only imagine the magic a winged being would use, and for that, he glared at him. Not necessarily out of spite for magic use, but out of caution for being potentially strong enough to kill Ragaston with one word.

 

[Obsidian]

To see the small child suddenly transform back into the old woman was something rather new to Elathin. He had heard that Stewards have strange and wondrous powers, abilities that go beyond the bounds of what magic is possible in doing, such as miraculous transformation like he just witnessed. He did not see such things from his mother, but then she lived with them in the Palace, and had little cause to use such powers. In the end, Crone pulled herself away from Elathin, acting as though nothing at all just happened, unable to do little else but watch as the old woman turned to step into the wagon through the shutter doors. Then the boy spoke up.

"Why did I help her?" Elathin looked in the boy's direction with a puzzled look, "Because she was in danger of falling off the wagon. What else was I going to do?"

Then Elathin watched the boy as he went about fiddling with strange metal pieces in the shape of clothwork gears. Then the boy would reveal his energy crystal, and seeing it made Elathin screw up his face into a scowl. Something about that crystal didn't feel right, Elathin could feel himself weakening under it's glare, and he could not help but instinctively step away from it.

"What is that thing?" Elathin asked, almost accusatory, pointing at the crystal, "Whatever it is, get rid of it. I sense nothing but evil within it."

Not wishing to be anywhere near that crystal, Elathin stepped through the shutter door into the wagon, and gaining some distance from that crystal made Elathin feel better straight away. He did not like to think why the crystal had such an affect on him, but it troubled him all the same.

 

[Alonthra]

Finding the pot she filled it with water from a barrel. Shadow found the tea and the jar nudged it's way within the old woman's reach. Without looking up she grabbed a fist full of tea leaves and put them in the pot with the water and placed it over the coals that remained in the fire place. "Now where is food?" she mumbled to herself. She pushed a pile of junk off a table and found come stale bits of bread. She picked them up and started to suck on them.
The living area was a neglected mess. Half finished projects with no apparent function. Random bits and parts, and some complete tools and objects that seem to have been scavenged from various places. There were devices from various cultures all over the continent. Some from before the rise of Bayfrost.

There was very little movment within the cabin of the wagon. Which helped keep the chaos in place. Continuing to rumage Crone found a box of biscuits. "Will have to do for now." and brought it over to a table/work bench. Pushing junk aside she made room to sit and eat. Shadow pulled out three wooden cups for tea. Crone turned to get the pot. "Why did you get out three?" shadow pointed at her visitors. "Oh guests. How did you two get in here? Well I don't see any harm in it. I don't have much. I need to resupply once we get ro Deggalt."
Crone poured the tea and sat on a crate. Shadow pushed the biscuits closer to her before stretching across the room to look at what the Ragaston was working on. Crone realized she had been rude. " I don't believe... I mean... People call me Crone. The Elk is Elk and well Shadow is Shadow. Easy enough to remember. What are your names any particular place or perhaps object I can help you find?" She was a bit nervous but didn't quite know why. She felt something familiar coming off the winged fellow, and somthing deep down was upset by it. Ragaston wa ssomething else he was fascinated by her work and that was rare. A kindred spirit perhaps. Behind him Shadow got a little wxcited as the crystal within the gears began to glow and twitch within the device. The long dead crystal lived again.

 

[Fischer]

Elathin was rather turned off by Ragastons energy crystal, saying it held nothing but evil. With almost a grin of pleasure, Ragaston whispered, " And that's a bad thing?" Fingers still fiddling he felt the rush of adrenaline slow down, his sporadic movements went back to normal speed. He was alert and awoke now. It seemed as though the energy crystal and these enhancement crystals would be a good mix.

Now Crone was steeping tea, and while her shadow was helping find food, Ragaston watched the crystal closely. Hearing Crone ask for his name and the winged one's name was odd, could she have lost her memories during her transformation? "Ragaston" he spoke one word, as he was focused more on the crystal. After sitting there for a second the crystal began to glow, and with an eye movement, he saw the shadow giggling. With a subtle grin, he pocketed the crystal. Looking distinctly at the shadow as though they had somehow felt the same thing. When the crystal began to glow Ragaston felt a surge, of what he could only imagine being, dark energy. It was swirling through his fingers and drifting into his hands by the time he placed the group of gears back in his pocket. Looking at the shadow he thought he could see a flash of that same energy glow over the shadow. He didn't know anything about how the energy crystal worked, but he assumed it held power even stories didn't bode truthful.

Answering Crone's question," Can you help me find thin copper wire and a clock hand?" Hoping to acquire all the parts for this new energy crystal clock. Ragaston believed it would allow his alchemy to work. See in typical alchemy you transform one material into another, but Ragaston had learned to gather materials and use alchemy to build as well. It was a faster way to create his clocks.

"Oh, forgive me. I forgot to mention, I build clocks, a lot. Would you like to see some?"

 

[Obsidian]

"I am..." Elathin suddenly stops himself, just before speaking his title. Is it truly wise to reveal one's heritage to two people he hardly knows. A Steward, like his mother, could be trusted, though Elathin did not know what kind of relationship his mother may have had with the other Stewards. But the boy, Ragaston, he was another matter entirely. And one that harbours crystals possessed of some kind of evil magic was not one to trust. "I am Elathin," He says, before looking to Crone, "And I am in need of getting home to the Kingdom of Casadore. Unless you have something that can direct me back home, I do not believe you can help me, other than taking me to a more... hospitable town."

A twing of pain would make the young Prince hiss, unfastening his jacket to find his bandages were dyed a much richer shade of red, forcing Elathin to take a seat. All the excitement and exertion must have reopened his wounds, causing some bleeding and a measure of pain. Healing magic was not one of Elathin's talents, and certainly neither was medicine. He looked up at Crone hesitantly, "Do you have anything to heal wounds?"

 

[Alonthra]

Crone gnawed on a rock hard biscuit as she listened to her guests talk and introduce themselves. "Clocks! good good. I don't have any but I have parts lots of parts!" It was an understatement. The wagon was organized chaos of parts; leaning more towards chaos. While clockwork mechanisms were plenty she lacked most other supplies.

When Eridin spoke of his dilemma. Crone became visibly agitated. Pulling the tea pot closer she ripped off a few strips from the cloth that was her head wrap. Scooping out some of the already steeped tea leaves into one strip and rolled it closed. She then went to work on his bandages. First pressing the cloth with the tea agaisnt his wound to help stanch the bleeding. then using the second strip to hold it in place. She started to cry but didn't know why or even what she was feeling. "Yes, we can take you home." Crone took a sip of tea. Her mind drifted off she wasn't aware that she was even talking. Avoiding the subject and putting the uneasiness behind her. Crone finished what she was eating and got off the crate she sat on and continued to rummage through things until she for the stairs to the bedroom loft. "Will have to make do... There is spare bedding under the stairs and a bed up the stairs. I never use it so you are welcome to it."

Shadow moved closer to Crone. It helped her clear the table of the food as Crone pulled out a project. It was hard to tell that it was meant to be. Thee peices of different colored glass suspended on a corkscrew pendulum. The rest was a collection of odd gears and springs. From her pokect Crone pulled out a set of magnifying spectacles and when to wodk drowning out the world around her. Without her head wrapping the silver locks were getting in her way so her shadow held back her hair for her.

 

[Obsidian]

Elathin did not say anything as Crone worked, removing his old bandages and replacing them with new ones, the grevious wounds and the workings of a doctors craft visible to them both. In truth, Elathin did not have much of a stomach for blood and gore, so he quickly looked back up at Crone, occasionally breathing out a muffled moan from the pain of his wounds being played with, only to find that Crone was crying. Elathin frowned at this, rather confused, but this old woman was far from stable at the best of times. But, of course, she was no mere woman. She was a Steward.

Once Crone had finished, Elathin did not bother to put his jacket back on, it would only be stained by the tea. Instead, he looked down to the blooded bandages, swallowed back a pang of sickness, before raising his hand and exerting his influence. Blood, like all life, is a product of two elements; Earth and Water. A magician of either gift with enough training and talent could exert their influence over something like blood, controlling it like they would control Water or Earth. Elathin too could do this. Emphasis on 'could'. But right now, he could not. As much as he tried, the blood now drying on those old bandages did not bend in accordance to his will, and Elathin stopped trying before the exertion affected him. He had been feeling weaker, and it was not just due to his injuries. Something... was terribly wrong. He could feel it. He just didn't know what it means yet.

The prince used the wind element to blow onto the bandages, drying them, before gathering them and rolling them up. They could be cleaned later, when they come to a source of fresh water. "I think I'll get some rest." Elathin says, rising back to his feet, "I'll take the bed upstairs. If anyone needs me, I'll be up there." With that said, Elathin takes his leave, finding and walking up the stairs, meeting the bed and gently laying himself upon it. He could not help but rub his eyes triedly. This bed was a bit lumpier than he is used to, but all know what is said about beggars. Elathin closes his eyes and lets himself rest. Hopefully, if he's lucky, he'll find himself back in his bedchamber back home, and all this would be a terrible nightmare.

 

[Alonthra]

Crone worked through the night. Despite its appearance the wagon was a smooth ride, but none of that helped Crone. She moved from project to project frustrated that nothing was coming out right. Not that she knew what it was she was trying to make. However nothing felt right. She cursed and by dawn gave up and wandered out to the driver's seat. Elk had stopped some time ago near a stream. He was tired but waited patiently for the harness to be taken off. He then was given free rein to wander eat and drink as he needed. Crone wandered the bushes picking and eating berries. She forgot about her passangers until both shadow and elk reminded her. She gathered a few in her robe and brought them in and placed them on the counter, and went back to work on her "toys".

It was hard to fallow the thought process behind them. Yet there was a pattern just not one she could see. Rummaging through a crate she pulled out a toy she hadn't worked on for a long time. It was a dancing music box or would be if she could get it right. Goose feathers folded up into the shape of an egg. Turning a key a song played out of tune and broken. Familiar yet far off and strange. One wing opened the other only came out pary way. they revealed a none discript figure that twitched in place. Tinkering away She tried to fix the gears but grew frustrated and instead started to take it apart. She pulled out a different gadget. This one a pouncing cat like creature from old stories and legends said to bring luck to hunters or devour thoses that had no respect for the land.

added

Meanwhile Shadow has stretched itself from Crone's feet and made its way up to the bedroom. there were no doors there was never a need for them not that they would stop Shadow. The strange independent appendage of Crone breifly hovered over the shadow of the sleeping Elathin. First it caressed the hair of his shadow. Elathin's locks mirrored the effects of the interaction of the shadows. Satified that he was sound a sleep shadow began to braid patches of of hair into spikes.