The Message

The fight rejoined, their movements faster now, savage and punishing any mistake made with savage ****. He slammed her back into the wall and she narrowly avoided his following blow to crush her skull. She responded with a snap-kick to his kidney that made his balls ache. Yet they continued, ripping through the room in a torrent of destruction. Food from the table crunched underfoot as the sturdy wood crumbled when he was flung back into it.

Then she came at him once more. She'd grown bored of their game, driving him back relentlessly, forcing him ever towards the wall, blocking every counter, striking him again and again, punishing his body with every step back he took. Threads of golden light flitted about her, revealing the divine power she channeled, strengthening and healing her.

He'd seen it so often, learned the patterns it took, the way she was careful never to oblique herself to the flow of power. The peculiar way she moved to redirect the threads, her whole fighting style wrapped around it.

It wasn't a conscious decision, it just happened as he slipped into a particular move he'd learned to counter one of hers, something tugged at him, his movement slipping into something just slightly different. The change was nothing like what he'd imagined. It wasn't some overbearing presence using him, but rather as if he stood at the fore of some mighty army, all following his lead. Golden threads worked down his skin, forming complex patterns and words of power, not in the flowing script of Raleigh as it did on her, but in the blocky cuneiform of the orcs.

The blow struck true and she was cast across the room, the stone trembling from the blow while she stared at him, her eyes wide as she processed what she'd seen. What he'd done.

Rob looked down at his arm, the words, symbols and patterns fading quickly, but the indelible memory of what he'd done weighing on him. He dragged his gaze to her, and she gave the slightest smile and a nod. "Finally. You see what I always have." That sense of unbalance, teetering on the edge of madness was gone from her. Instead there was only vindication. "So long they doubted me. Said I wasted my time. Yet here you are."

He snarled at her. "I didn't ask for this." Instinctively he rubbed at his arm.

"We never do. It is not for us to question the path, only to walk it." She stood, taking a deep breath and centering herself, summoning the threads once more, letting them flow through her. He watched as the bruises on her skin began to fade, though he knew the worst would last for hours.

"I still don't buy into your religious shite." He rumbled, mimicking her motions. Nothing happened. He tried again, irritation making him tense as he ached.

She was standing in front of him now, having somehow crossed the room without him noticing. She caught his eye, and did the motion slowly, letting him mirror it. "Again." She commanded and he reluctantly obeyed, feeling her touch gently guiding his body, shaping it to the threads until he could feel the surge of power calming, healing, restoring him.

"If you wish, I will teach you. You could be a great champion of this world. There are such threats as you cannot imagine lurking out there in the darkness." She collected her coat from a hook near the door, putting it on, and drawing a small wallet from one of the pockets.

"And if I say no?" He narrowed his eyes at her back, waiting for the hammer to fall.

She turned to smile at him over her shoulder. "Then I will have faith. Your path is not mine. Mine was to find you, and to have the faith that you would grow to be worthy of your gifts." There was a note of sadness in her voice. "I have given everything to that end. Wherever you go, whatever you do, you carry a little bit of me with you. I hope you will remember that." She tossed the wallet at him and he caught it.

"If you wish to find me, you have only to seek the path, and it will lead you where you're meant to be." She pulled the door open.

"Wait!" He called to her, and she stopped. "I don't understand?" He looked at the wallet, full of silver coins.

She sighed, laughing softly. "Do you really think any prison could hold you now? In a few moments, the guards will come and walk you out of here. After that, you are free to do as you will." Does that spell it out for you sufficiently?"

"I'm just free to go. Like that." He growled suspiciously.

"We are all prisoners to our path. The only difference is if we embrace what we are meant to do, or must be dragged along it, kicking and screaming." She let out a slow breath. "You have been coaxed into the first step. But only you can take the second."

"Wait!" He halted her again as she tried to leave, and she spared him an exasperated look. "What's your name?" He asked.

"Saralynn Sua-Zhen. Did you really not know it all this time?" She gave him an incredulous smirk.

"Had other things on my mind." He grumbled, taken by a slight blush despite himself.

"Safe travels, Roblin of the Bear's Heart." And then she was gone.