Another ones Story (Based on Twokind book three)

[VimoZ]

So here it is, i've wrote some fanfiction based on Tom Fischbach's "Twokind" story, book three and therefore doesn't really runs along the actual story. Read Twokinds at twokinds.keenspace.net (Yeah i think u all here know it.)

The consept of the story is about a unknown human that can sense other peoples emotions. For now i dont mention his name, so he is refered mostly as "he, him, pigskin" and such. This might cause some complication in the grammar. Im not from either england or the states, so the spelling and grammar aint perfekt, but if u got any complains i will correct them. (Private message me). I will try continue write on the story and make it bigger (such as a prologue), i might also change something in the story by editing the post (I try following Toms story, so i might need to change mine after his). I will start another post for comments and such, and dont want them on this post.
I use characters from Twokind and Tom allowed me to use them and post them here. Thanks for that Tom.
I'll try to make the main characters past revealed as the story goes.
I'll try to make some art to the story to, even though i aint THAT good at drawing.
Hope you enjoy reading it and remember, i just write this for the fun, and cause i really like Twokinds.
/VimoZ [e-mail]

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<There was no room for the Prologue here, its loaded up after the end of chapter 2 under the titel "Prologue">

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Chapter One -[glow=red,2,300]Changes leads to questions[/glow]
He gazed at the sky above him, or rather the clouds that swept over the sky. The rain felt to continue its dull smattering song for an eternity, and his mere clothing didn't protect him against the cold wind to his wet skin. He looked down on one of the few humans beside him. At least that one had a thick cloak of skin and fur. While his eyes couldn't wander away from the wishes to have that fur, his mind flew away to the appearance around him. The hills around them as he remembered them was filled with green beautiful grass, and he and his mother used to roll around in it until they got all green on their cloths. But now it, as everything else, seemed so dark as if nature itself had lost hope on the population living on its skin. Now the grass on the hills was more dark grey than the light green that he held beloved in his memories. His mind felt more and more numb as it wandered to the humans and Keidrans in the huge line. All faces seemed frowned and cold, except for the ones with their eyes burning with yellow flickering fire, those filled anger to get revenge, and amongst those ranks was only Keidrans. It didn't really make him feel comfort, because he knew that even thru he wasn't the human they blamed, he was one of the race that had tormented them for many years, and deep within most of them he could sense a despise to all humans, except some few. One of the Keidrans he couldn't sense this in was first in the line, the leader. His mind couldn't hold on to search the world around him because of the human, which he forgot he stared at, let out an angry grunt of disliking. He lost his trance, nodded slightly at the fur-covered human and thought about what had happened a week ago.

He remembered that he felt a change in the weather already then. He and his mother had been out getting food supplies cause of his feelings about the changing around the earth. They got home to the cottage that they lived in late and only the moon lightened up the bank of the wood where the cottage laid. The reason he and his mother lived there was only a mere memory back in his head, and his mother never wanted to speak of it. And just when they had entered the shadows of the trees a voice came up to speak some few steppes in the woods. It then he first saw her, surrounded with a company of Keidrans, the leader of the so-called war band. He told his mother to wait in the shadows under a short tree, while he took some steppes forward to take a better look at what was happening. The one that spoke was a female, covered with either scars or stripes, or maybe both, he couldn't tell in the dark. Her face was frowned and he could sense sadness within, even people without his gift to see how people felt could see that. He heard them speak of the Grand Templar, and every time they mentioned his name "Trace" the female's face darkened even more. He felt that every time they mentioned him, and as they spoke, memories wandered in her head, even if he himself could not see them. And somehow those memories made her sad. He had stood there a long time and listened to tales of the Grand Templar. Someone mentioned something about the female, called Flora, and the Grand Templar's "moments together". When they came to speak of this, Flora had frowned totally and they all stopped. Yet again they started to talk about the Grand Templar, and some way to solve the torment of the Templars. He remembered how he reached forward to hear what they said, when he tripped face down in the mud right in front of their noses. For some reason he didn't really fear for his life back then, he remembered his mother jumping forth from the shadows as a great pain filled the back of his head. Before he had passed out he could hear his mother speak in a loud voice, but he could not putt the words together in his head.

He had waked up later with the so-called Flora and his mother beside him. He thought of the pain when he raised his head and shuddered. His mother had taken the effort of pressing his head back on the ground, even if he wasn't so happy about it. The moon could be seen though the gaps of the leaf roof covering the wood, just enough to make him see and read Floras face. Flora had told him the things he's own mother never had told him, but he figured out that she had told Flora. The story was about his father, a former Templar, opposing the will of the order, and how his dad had been killed outright before his mother's eyes before he even was born. At the end of the story Flora had told him another short story about the rumours that he had heard earlier while he spied. He remembered how he along the story could sense a mixture of intensive hate of betrayal and sadness, behind the scarred enclosed blind eye, for what she had to do. At the end of the story she had begged him to follow her to what she had to do, and he had said yes, even thou he wasn't really happy about standing up to oppose his own race, but on the other hand, it wasn't the human race at large she was against, already then he could sense that she didn't really hate humans as much as other Keidrans. And of cause he could sense what his mother wanted him to do.

Now as he later on walked forth in the mud he thought of it all, while he had his story, he was only a pawn in the game. All other, almost two thousand people, on march also had their own story, and where also pawns. The problem was that he didn't know how big difference he would make. He wanted to help end the war, even if he didn't like what he had to do to make it stop, opposing the Grand Templar. And from the stories that Flora had told him, he could sense that she didn't really want to oppose him she either, even if she didn't know it herself. What was the real story behind these two? To him it seemed they where the biggest pawns in this game, but who was the game master?
He took a futile glance forth the lines to see if he could see the "Sahra-ki". The only thing he could see was a small line of humans that he wandered with, and the heavy rain falling before him. He shuddered as the wind cut itself right into his flesh, sharper than knifes. Once again he turned his gaze up the skies as if he wanted to read and sense the universe itself. Water filled his eyes and he stopped walking, but he didn't bring his gaze down. He felt an urge of frustration, he didn't like being lost, he wanted to know what he was doing, what all this was about, did anyone else know? What kind of pawn didn't know his role in the game? He was just a lost peasant in the game of chess, one that could be sacrificed for difference. For the others his story and his past didn't change much. He felt a push behind him; "Move", and he took his gaze down from the skies and took another footstep in the mud. He felt how the mud covered his toes. And a second after that there was time for another step. It was this way his story, and all other stories got forth. And there was the great story of the earth, the story that binds and unites them all together.
He sighed and took another step.
---

[VimoZ]

The great line had walked another day forward, and their destination seemed to be very close.
He knew why they where here, but he didn't know if the other shared his knowledge. Surly most people here would strafe along the Sahra-ki for some reason. Some maybe followed the waves, trusting the things they thought were right. He himself didn't really know. Just that he, with influences from outside, had ended up here without really thinking about what he was doing. Did he seek his destiny without knowing it? He realised with this thought that he could never know until it had happened. His mother had once told him to see and plan forth on what was happening; but that it was futile to try re-write the story that his destiny binds him with.

He looked around him, once again reading the faces on the small group humans. Bigger or smaller, didn't matter, everyone had a tired, frown and dull face. The whole group felt out of this place, they where a rebel, a threat to their own race. He felt like asking the Sarha-ki the true story behind this, but he knew it to be useless. If he would even come near her there was a big chance of being impaled by her closest. If he only could find the time and place to ask all the questions he had, even if she couldn't answer them all it would be worth it. He felt the frustration roaring inside him, he had to get answers somehow, even if it had to meant risking his life either on get near Flora, or to see what's going happen if he runs along the story without knowing what to do. He sighed and walked out from the line standing and waiting for instructions what to do. He knew what was going to happen, they where close to the city where the Grand Templar dwelled, so he figured they would spend the night right here. He had spend his other nights amongst the safety of the human group, it seemed logic, but he couldn't sleep at all and with this frustration eating him from the back of his head he couldn't take that anymore.

Before they had stopped a tall dog-like Keidran had told them there was water nearby, so he decided to follow the smooth smattering sound of rolling water, but it was hard to tell where it came from with the heavy rain falling from above. As soon as he came about ten meters from the line his ears was filled with a load roar from the same dog-like Keidran that he knew from earlier. He turned around to see what was wrong, and the Keidran walked forward to him. He didn't know better than to just stand still without doing anything that would seem threatening. That would just lead to him gasping for air. The Keidran was both taller and broader, and with claws instead of his weapon less hands.
"Stop pigskin, no human are allowed to leave the line without permission from the sahra-ki" he said with a hard and deep voice. "We can't trust any of your kind while we are this close to the city, you fur-less people can't be trusted".
At first he didn't know what to do. He could sense the human hatred within the dark furred huge Keidran. Probably it was that one who watched over the human group. Frustration felt like it was going to expanse so much within him that he would hit the Keidran without even have any intension. He fought back the urge to do so, that would be fatal. He could sense the Keidrans gaze from above. He had to say something. Maybe this could be a chance to get to the Sahra-ki. But he needed some good excuse to why he had to leave the line.
"I only need to find... leafs fo" he let out from his mouth before he was interrupted.
"The leafs are long dead, even if it its wrong season for it to do so" the Keidran said with a low hard tone as its eyes almost penetrated though his head. Then after some seconds had flown out in the smattering rain he filled in as another excuse.
"And some water from the river down there". He nodded down the hill out in the dark. The mere moonlight had been covered by the heavy rain clouds and the Keidran let his gaze wander of to the middle of nowhere.
"I doesn't see any water do you pigskin?" he said louder this time.
"No but I can hear it, and by the way you said that there would be water close. In other cases I wish to speak with the Sahra-ki." He didn't know if this trick had to do, maybe the Keidran would even consider breaking his orders and letting him go, he hoped not. More seconds passed smattering out in the rain. He could feel the gazes from the human group, as if they would expect a fight. This hadn't done the trick it seemed, so he filled in further more.
"But I guess you have your orders to follow, sad enough." he let out with a load voice to ensure another Keidran heard it. He had exposed what he wanted to happen, he knew that but at the same time he had made his point clear. With a grunt the Keidran nodded for him to follow, and he did so.

The frustration had gone away now. He would soon get some questions answered so he could clear his mind. As he walked behind the tall dog-like Keidran he noticed more Keidrans catching up beside and behind him. A bit of fear passed through his mind. He didn't feel safe at all now, but somehow he knew that as soon as he would get Floras eyes on the situation he would be safer. He kept following his escort amongst the lines of Keidrans staring at his back. He turned his head to the skies for some seconds, sensing a change, and he noticed that it had stopped raining and that the moon was starting to cast its smooth weak light upon the war band and its tents. It almost seemed beautiful.

[VimoZ]

The walk seemed unusual slow, every step closer to the answers. He associated the feelings with the ones he used to have as a child, right before his birthday, the whole time seemed to flow slower. He felt like he was pulling a tough branch, the more effort he used the harder it got and the harder it would hit back. As they slowly got closer and closer he watched his surroundings. Some few Basitin was clearly with the small army, he didn't really see them, but he could sense that some "beast" like creature's feelings, emotions and way of thinking stood out from the rest. He could hardly tell with was one with only his eyes, the only thing he had learned was that they really where quite different in their own way. He could also pick up sadness and agony behind their scale of fur, flesh and bones. He had heard rumours, gossips from a small village that their race almost got wiped out. And that no one knew who was responsible. He guessed that the Basitin wandering behind Flora surly took their first chance at the Grand Templar. After all, he himself had great power, and he in his blooded hands he held the mightiest race, using them as string puppets because of their lack of knowledge. Well, at least that was what people knew about him, but was this only the former and old Trace? From the stories he had been told from Flora it all seemed wrong some way. From what he got, no one had gotten as close to the Grand Templar as Flora had, so it wasn't hard to figure she knew best, and she had chosen to confront him. Yet again he felt the frustration back his head, why was he told this things? He couldn't change anything; he was useless except the fact that he could take up people's emotions. But now, in these darker times, those skills seemed to penetrate his head with questions, sending agony down his spine, making his body numb.


He sighed and realised right then that a clear breeze had started, drying away the raindrops from his wet skin. He took his gaze down to look and raised his forearm to look upon it. On it laid a small beautiful raindrop, shaking from the cold wind. He watched deep within it, he could see the reflection from the moonlight flickering as the small raindrop shook. Now the time seemed to stand still, he couldn't sense the sad feelings all around him, it was rejuvenating. It was like he moved right into that little shining raindrop, finding a place at peace where all stood still. His whole mind concentrated so much at the small drop that he almost got send rolling back when it suddenly got black. Confusion took over him before he realised someone must be blocking out the moonlight. He heard a cracking sound from his neck as he raised his head and looked on his left side with a wondering gaze.

"We're here." said the tall dog-keidran. At first he hadn't recognised him at all and therefore answered in a quick sentence.
"Uhm right, where do I find her?"
"Don't be fooling human, if I see you alone with her ill decapitate your head myself." the keidran grunted with a threatening voice. The threatening matter didn't really get into his brain, he was to crippled from what had just happened. And he couldn't realise where they where.
"Yes, yes. Of cause, so when can I see her then?" he said slower this time. It didn't seem to good to sound mocking.
"I've already sent out words for her, if you don't remember, we've been standing here for about five minutes... weak minded senile pigskin." The last word fell out sighing.
What? What was this, the last thing he remembered was looking into the raindrop when they where walking. How captured in his own emotions did he really get? Did he pass out? Had he been unconscious while they went here?
"Wha... But... I can't rem." He didn't finish the sentence, realising both that it was best the Keidran didn't know and because he saw some dark pattern stripes moving in the moonlight. He just nodded at the dog-like Keidran and moved to meet the Sahra-ki. He just wiped out what had just happened from his mind and stood still until he was greeted. As they got closer he saw that it wasn't the same bodyguard as he had seen some week ago. He met Floras gaze, it was still filled with sadness and now he could sense that she was tired. At once he felt sad for taking her time at his questions, but he did really needed to clear his mind from questions or he felt he was on his way going crazy. Her hair was worn and her fur was grey from filth. He met her gaze and tried to press forth a smile, it was futile.
"They said you wanted to talk to me Beuwulf, and I see you brought one of the new with you?" she asked wondering.
"It's about leaving the ranks, I didn't let him to obey orders, he says he wanted water" Beuwulf, the dog-like Keidran answered. "He said he wanted to discuss and talk 'bout this with you even if its inappropriate."
She looked at the human, widening up her one healthy eye. He both understood and sensed that she wondered what this was really about. He opened his mouth and closed it, he felt unsure. She continued to look at him without breaking the silence, forcing him to speak.

"No that is not the real reason why I am here actually" he said softly. He could see in the corner of his eye how the huge Keidran quickly turned his head away from the Sahra-ki to stare at him.
"So what is this really about then?" she asked again with a wondering voice.
"I... I got questions". He sighed when he thought about them all.
"About?" Flora asked slowly, her eye closed and she gasped.
"Everything, including Trace."
Her healthy eye opened at once, she stared him right in his eyes. In some fragment of seconds he could sense sadness hanging around her. He had no idea why she would answer all his questions, she had no reason, she didn't own him anything, but yet, he was met with a small nod.
"I've gladly answer, but then you have to help me even more" she said in a sad but higher voice.
He guessed that it was worth doing something for her, and it would seem that his part in the game might unfold sooner than he thought, even if he didn't know what she wanted from him.
"I accept your offer Sahra-ki, thank you" he said in a polite voice.
"The...then let it be so, we'll talk alone at the campfire" she said loudly to ensure her bodyguards heard what she said, but he could still detect a discomfort that she had to trust him, even if he was a human. But he wasn't complaining, some of the bodyguards would sure be less understanding about the questions he had.
"But, Sahra-ki, its a HUMAN. We can't let you be alone with him. Remember who caused all thos..." the unknown voice of one of the bodyguards suddenly stopped as if he had said something wrong and regretted it. Flora's face frowned but didn't do anything more than reply back.
"For the first, I more than anyone knows the person who did this to me, second I have to trust a human to do this and its involving the same filt..." for some seconds she stopped and then she continued on"...human that betrayed me more than anyone else have ever done, but I still have to trust him, I don't have much choice." she said in a very soft voice and he had to listen hard to hear. "And beside, he's unarmed and I know how to defend myself." she said more self-confident.
She gazed at the bodyguard, and when she ensured he was silent she turned around and nodded in direction to a flickering light some meters outside the line.
He took a fast glance around, a little afraid of what Beuwulf and the other Keidrans would do, then he slowly followed her to the campfire. As he walked he couldn't understand that he really had gotten himself into this, but he hoped to get that frustration stop eating him inside out.
Maybe he wasn't a useless pawn after all?
---


(Thats it for now, ill try to write more untill next week, but after that I begin school, then it will go slower if I don't drop it at all. Hope u enjoyed the first part.)

[VimoZ]

Chapter Two-[glow=red,2,300]Drahzae[/glow]

They both had settled down beside the campfire. He felt some small amount of comfort from the warmth arising from the fire. It swung back and forth, changing forms in the wind, and every time the wind blew its cold sigh it changed again. He stared into the flames, stretching itself, arising upwards, trying to break free from the earth that binds it, longing for freedom, away from the story. But it was indeed bound to the earth, as well as he was. A gust came by, and at once the hair on his neck arose from the quick change from warmth to cold. The fire flickered and changed once more, some sparks flew away, following the wind. He took a glance upwards on the Sahra-ki sitting on the other side of the fire. Her orange and filthy grey fur melted in with the colours of the fire, showing only her black stripes and her dark scars running along her body. She gazed down, making some strange pattern in the mud. He couldn't see what it was, but as soon as he stretched on himself to take a glance, she turned her head upwards to look at him, like she sensed his gaze. Her eyes seemed very tired, her brown hair swiftly moved with the fire in the wind. He smiled a false mere smile, trying to cheer her up even if he didn't know why. Apparently it hadn't worked, he still sensed sadness, and it lay like an aura around her. But behind that he sensed determent willpower to not let the sadness stop her from what she had to do, along with memories. He was sure it was those memories that made her sad, and it wasn't hard to feel that she longed for the memories, so he guessed they where happy ones. But that the story from her memories had taken a twist that she hated. He didn't really need to ask her, he thought he knew the answer already; everything was about that one answer.
"So, why are you leading all this, I guess its about the story you told me before?" he said slowly.
She turned her head down, drawing patterns in the mud again. She sighted before she answered.
"Isn't it obvious, Change... Our two races have been in war so long any mortal can remember, we all got different stories, stories we want to change cause of this. And yes, for me, it's about my story." She took her finger out of the mud, revealing the pattern. He reckoned it to be Keidran, and he knew he wouldn't understand what it said.
"And your story is about you and Trace, I heard that earlier. But why do you lead all those people to war, do you really think violence is the only way to solve it, isn't that what people done wrong for so long now. It seem war itself can't end the war". His tongue felt dry, he didn't really know why she would answer to these questions yet.
"No..." she took her head up to gaze into the fire, "... No I know, it's not war I am after, and by the way. Everyone in the line has their own choice for following me, I never asked for their help. I guess they follow me because Trace..." she shivered and waited some seconds before she began at new.
"... Because Trace, or... the Templar order is the one thing standing in the way of piece, in the way of some peoples dreams. And they all follow me because I have to... have." she stopped and lowered her head once more, facing the ground. He could see a golden teardrop, reflecting light from the fire, falling in the middle of the pattern she wrote.

He was ashamed; he had dug up wounds within her. He guessed it was best she didn't tell him what she had to do, both for her and for him. He felt for moving over to her and excuse to her. But he knew that to be a bad idea, he could sense her bodyguards watching and he didn't think she would appreciate it anyway.
"I, I mean that I have to..." she said wiping a tear from her cheek. He thought he could almost see the aura of sadness around her. He stared right through the fire on her; she looked like she was sadness in a form, a walking form of sadness, hatred and discomfort. But he greatly sensed that she really didn't trust him on this, and he understood that. He was quick to take to word before she would end the sentence.
"I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me what you have to do. Those things are between you and whomever you choose to share it with, and I am not sure I want to know, I think its best if I didn't. I understand that you and the Grand Templar has your own story, and that he have a big part of the great story, which binds you to it. Am I wrong?" he said as his mind whirled with the mere knowledge he had.
She sighed but stayed face down. Drawing another pattern in the mud, and he wondered what it meant.
"You-your right, on both points, I... I am sorry that I can't trust you to tell this" she said drawing another pattern. He felt that she urged for self-control as she looked up on him.
"But I really hope you stay with the ranks, as I said, I need to ask you for help later".
"I have nowhere to go, I want to make a change to, but I don't know my place in the story," he said realising that all questions he had wouldn't really help him on this. He sighed and hung down his head, the frustration within him felt like it would never go away.

They had kept chatting for some time, and Flora's mood never seemed to change. It seemed she could never change until she had done what she had to do. The ever-changing fire had faded away to mere warmth from the burned wood. The moon was on its way to settle down at its resting place, under the horizon. He had gazed at the moon trying to sense what its story was and he had felt how his fatigue was drained away out in the night. But he couldn't let his gaze out form the moonlight; he knew the feeling from not long ago, the feeling of piece, of silence. Some mere moments later he saw how the Sahra-ki talked to him somewhere of in the distance, in the reality. Then she walked away. What was happening to him, why was he here? He knew the Sahra-ki couldn't answer. No one answered, not even his dreams.

[VimoZ]

Pain was flashing through his back and a migraine headache buried itself deep inside his head. He figured he lay on his back, gazing right into the soft moonlight. There was something special about it, he felt close to it, but still alone, like walls had been raised up to create his own isolated room. It this quite room pleased him when he looked back on the "real" world. He didn't know how long he lay there gazing into the moon, stretching his arm forth like he wanted to drag it down to the earth, and unite it with the great story of the earth. Or maybe it was the reverse; maybe he tried to reach the moon, to solve the mysteries that it gave him, and to live in its peaceful light. He felt something chilly roll down his spine, and it the thoughts hit him hard, penetrating his head and pushing the joy away. What was happening to him? He felt as if his life drained away, but his thoughts roared inside him, telling him to arise. But he couldn't move, he was numb and felt cold. He moved his head to look at his arm only to feel for throwing up. The headache was compelling, so he moved hand above his head and laid it on his forehead. Moments passed, moments of pain and of satisfaction. He was getting torn apart, his body staying there on the ground, while his thoughts struggled to flee. Fear passed though him as he noticed his hand, it was pale as if it was drained from blood, his veins shrinking and getting white. He felt how is senses left his body leaving only panic behind. His thoughts struggled, his body slowly decaying.
What was happening, why? He screamed for an answer inside his head, shrieking into the emptiness.
The pain inside his head was unbearable, and he closed his eyes awaiting, almost giving up.

It took some seconds for him to pick up the sound, and he couldn't figure out what it was. It was like the sound came from far away, like what or whoever letting out the sound was underwater. He concentrated all his senses on listening.
It was a cold laugher, cold as the most northern lands. A voice came to speak, as cold as the laugher, but he couldn't really pick up the words. He figured the voice was speaking to someone, but he didn't know whom from. He tried to listen, fighting for getting up to see if there really was someone, but the pain inside his head still roared, and he had lost most of his senses concentrating on the sound.
Suddenly a speech arose, becoming louder, but with a different voice. This time he managed to pick up what the frightened and angry voice said.
"You know I am not the last of my kind, and the one's thats left will never be as foolish as I've been"
He felt as if there was something familiar with the voice, but he didn't recognise it at all. Where was he? And why did he start to sense a participation in the frightened voice's story? From where did he know that voice?
Another cold laugher echoed, hanging in the air, and the most chilling voice arose, this time clearer.
"Foolish one you are, foolish enough to miss the death of your brethrens, but don't worry, not even the foolish one was enough fool to escape, you'll be joining them soon."
The voice echoed inside his head, what was he talking about? And the voice, the voice couldn't probably be human, nor Kiedran or Basitin.
The familiar voice lowered its level, but he could still hear how it trembled of fear.
"N-No! What did they do, what did they do to deserve this. They had nothing to do with this."
"You, the foolish one brought it upon them, you all are one, but when the last of the foolish ones are dead, then they will repay what they took, in pain." the cold voice said louder, screaming out the last words.
He couldn't stand this, what was happening, was he dreaming?

The pain rushed through his body and his head as he urged to slowly arise, feeling like his limbs died from the pain, closing his eyes. He couldn't hear the conversation very good, because his whole body had become numb. Seconds and seconds of cutting pain passed, and every second he felt how the blood ran out, how his endurance broke down. His hands started to shake, sending more pain upwards from down his fingers to his head. Pain, pure pain flashing everywhere, his muscles crawling together and widening out in frustration, back and forth.
In a combination of pain and fear, his eyes widened up when he heard the familiar voice speak.
"They... We didn't choose this fate. I might, but my brethrens... they have their own path, and that path is not over. Drahzae will live!..." the familiar voice said almost unheard, and finished. "Now, be gone, it's not my time yet."
The last thing he saw before he passed out, exhausted from the pain was a tall man covered in a white cloak, revealing only the pale white face, and in his last breath he noticed the empty eye sockets and the missing mouth. He felt how his back fell to the ground, how the pain started to dismiss, how his senses burned away and how his thoughts became black.

(More to come)

[VimoZ]

He blinked over and over again, never noticing he did it himself.
He heard a grunt somewhere of the distance, ignoring it for some moments. Then he realised something was wrong, and he got up, breathing heavy, his sight bypassing Beuwulf standing behind him.
The sun blinded his eyes, shining right into his confused face, making him utterly lost. He gasped and took his gaze down, to avoid the light as well as trying to locate where he was. He saw the fireplace and remembered his chat with Flora the night before, but where was she now? Moments and more moments passed, a wind passed by making his skin crawl from the cold. He realised... and took a glance at his shirt, it was soaked with rainwater, and he didn't know why; it had dried by the fire before. Then again, he was lost; before what?
He where suddenly surprised when he heard another grunt from behind, what was this? He turned around and faced something sturdy and furry. He couldn't help raising one eyebrow, what?
"Pigskin, you've woken up half the council in the middle of the night and ..." he heard a familiar voice from above. He gazed to face the sound and in some mere seconds he recognised the huge Keidran, looking even more angry than usual. But what did he mean by waking up whom, in the middle of what night? He blinked at the Keidran as it finished its sentence.
"... we couldn't even wake you up from your screaming. Screaming about something named Drahzae, the only thing stopping us from killing you where the Sahra-ki." he growled forth, putting some mere growling he guessed meant; "The Sahra-ki spare more humans, GAH... ill kill him anyway" or something alike.
At first the words seemed to stop somewhere between his ear and his brain, not getting what had happened. Instead he just stood there before Beuwulf, wondering where he had heard Drahzae before.
"Uh... I..." He got out, but he couldn't finish the sentence at all, he felt like he was lost inside of nowhere, something really meaningful had evoked when he slept, he was sure about it, but what? "The Sahra-ki?" he said not realising that wasn't really a question anyone would get.
"What about her?" Beuwulf was quick to question back.
"Uh..." he didn't really know what about her "... I pa..." He realised it would be stupid to try explain that he had passed away, he would be confronted with a disbelieving face, he knew it. Instead he filled in with the one thing that seemed reasonable enough to ask. "... I just wonder where she is, I don't remember."
He was met with the same angry gaze as before, an unsatisfying angry face.
"Maybe your head is as empty as your lack of fur? She said she told you to meet her in front of the marching line, and that is soon very far away, get going mindless human."
Eh? At first he didn't understand, then he gazed around on the open field around him, only some left-overs of the camp supplies remained on the dirty wet ground. He didn't know any better than continue and give the Keidran a nod. For once, the face of the Keidran wasn't mad about his reply.

It was a long walk back to the line, a quite one, and he couldn't stop repeating the one name inside his head over and over again: Drahzae... Drahzae. He felt that he knew what it meant, what it was, but... still he couldn't really get it. He gazed up from the ground, looked at the Keidran beside of him, then forth. There was the great line again, the ones lost, lost in their own story, like him.

"Drahzae forever, Drahzae no more
Drahzae would never, Drahzae never sore
Drahzae begins, Drahzae ends
Drahzae's sins, Drahzae never lends
Drahzae take, Drahzae don't give back
Drahzae make, Drahzae's greatest lack
Drahzae's fear, Drahzae's blood
Drahzae's tear, Drahzae never understood
Drahzae... ... ... ...will Die"

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(Chapter 2 ending, ill try to write a prologue about "he's" past life or something alike, that is, more to come)
/VimoZ

[VimoZ]

Prologue-
A human ran trough a hallway, his eyes peering back and forth, with his white robe flickering behind him. He slowed down, grimacing with his face, a grimace of pain, still he ran, like a pig trying to escape the butcher in panic. He started to limb forth, through a door where he stood curved forth, trying to slow down the blood colouring his robe. Steps where walking slowly outside the room, and the human turned away from something in the corner, making hasty sounds. The steps came closer, and he waited, standing there. Three humans entered the room, and, something else, something the human knew what it was, and something the other could not see. The human walking in the middle had eyes burning with a red light, but it was nothing compared to the... thing, a thing in human form, which had eyes that was not there. In the things left hand floated a mark, a mark showing a man, who stood inside a crescent moon, stretching its bow out in the space. The moon symbolizing the great story, one tip symbolizing in its turn the start, and the other one the end, the end that would bring peace. No one knew what the emptiness symbolized or meant, but the man symbolized a kind, a kind stretching out in the emptiness for something they didn't know.
The red eyed human, with turquoise hair and red hair tops, gave a quiet command, and the wounded man leaned head forward, knowing that it was not over. He peered upwards, looking at the thing, he knew it, he felt how it was filled with satisfaction, and he knew that if it had a mouth, it would grin on him. Yet without a mouth he heard a low ringing laugher in his head. He leaned down his head again, to look at the mark on his chest, the same mark as the thing carried, he putted his hand over it and ripped it of. Minor than a second later, the mark fell out of his numb hand.

The darkness was compelling, only a little taint of red and white was spreading around the skies, mixing the moons colour to pink. The blood-red-pink shifting moon fell its light upon the dry dark dirt on the ground, even it getting a red taint. Wherever direction you peered it was the same, a plain red ground, a desert of blood. And the sky ever shifting and changing torment of red and white.
Two long shadows were thrown over the ground, washing away the red taint. One shadow flickered in the wind; belonging to a kind of short human, though with a well build body. He gazed at the sky, his pupils following the changing in the sky.
The other shadow stood still in the ever-changing wind, the wind changing direction over and over again. The shadow, longer than the other one, seemed to be linked to nothing but white lines, lines forming a cloak, lines ever flowing with a red taint. Under the red-white lines forming the hood where only a blackness, a hole gazing into eternity, floating with hate inside. Hate for a story, one kinds story. The human's mouth opened to the skies, speaking words without sound. Lips moving into the emptiness, creating words without emotions. The blackness, the emptiness, answered the speechless speech, like he knew, like he heard what the earth could not.
No voice sprung out from the blackness, but it echoed in the desert, carried by the wind.
"This place is your creation, your room, where the foolish ones belongs" the speech echoed cold, chilling the humans bones.
"Yes, fools created this... pit. Drained away from your sins, that who once was gathered here. You all belong here, your own silence, in your own sins. The curse, the sickness fools made themselves carry." the echoing burst up loud but still it was cold. The shadow of the human crouched, the humans face was filled with disbelief. A soundless scream was curved upon his lips.
The blackness stretched its hands, hands of emptiness, lines flowing ever changing, over the horizon and upwards the blood-tainted sky.
"Your kind are doomed, for their sins, for their utilization, paying back what they took."
And with the words, more shadows appeared on the dirt, shadows ending in fading, immobile humans, gazing forth with empty pupil-less eyes, staring without emotions.
The human gazed at them all, couldn't stop himself from doing it, and torment filled his eyes, pupils darting from side to side, watching. A cold laugh echoed with the wind, and panicked the human ran away from the blackness, still mocking him with the cold laugh he could not escape. He ran past the transparent emotionless corpses, ran forth into nothing, the emptiness that filled the desert. Time stood still, but he ran an eternity, a story of eternity, a empty story with unending blank pages. Because where eternity was, there was nothing in the end, he realised, this is eternity, their eternity. Everything would end in nothing, and there was no end in an eternity, only nothing. The human stood still, the human cried a tearless cry, and screamed wordless curses, cursing the meaning of the emptiness. The human was broken, the leader of a kind, his pages of his story where ripped apart, but... still... the kind remained.

He stood still, pale, watching the emptiness, the nothing in name, emotionless, not even pain remained, nothing.

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(If a moderater would read this, well i hope if its possible, that u can move this post alone before the first on in the story, then ill fix everything on my own, also ill send some moderator a pm ^^ dont think you'll read this, but if u do, plz ask me.)