Roleplay between [Thrice] and [Lin Star]. C:

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[Lin Star]: S'rak Ighorn & Laenga Tirth & Rolen Tabepe
[Thrice]: Syrel Ryelic & Vaare Me'Lethan'Al & Zann Melireh

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Previous RPed history: MK Chapters

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^{Assuming we're ready to roll, I've come up with a great start that begins in Zann's home (assuming it's this huge castle-type thing as he is a Prince) and a bit of free time before dinner.}

In the hallways outside the dining hall hang many large wall-sized tapestries that are hand stitched and depict important moments in the history of the royal family. A few are family portraits of each generation, others are glorious battle scenes exaggerated far out of what really happened, and others are artistic images with fantastic poses that had also been painted. Guards stood two per door in this long open hallway with very tall and thin windows to shed light in from one side. A single hallway formed a T with this one and lead to a dead end with a large, heavy, ancient looking wooden door with rusted over hinges and no door handle, knob, or placement of any kind. It fit snugly with the warm stone around it, but seemed to be so cold and foreign in the large castle. Two torches to either side were set years ago by either side to shed light in the bare hallway, but have never really been lit often.

Zann leaned casually on the edge of the corner, watching the doorway thoughtfully. His leg left leg was crossed lazily in front of his right, his arms crossed perfectly across his chest. There was a look in his eyes, of deep consideration playing across the brilliant blue while he pondered the doors and their torches. Without thought he scratched his hand across his chin, which had just been shaved only minutes ago. There was something about that door that intrigued Zann. Intrigued him enough that he could stand, leaning like stone, watching it.

He felt the presence of another human being close by, a maid moving through the castle dusting off the objects that were placed lovingly in perfect spots. Zann didn't look up, he didn't look up when she eyed him, either. She was young, and pretty, but he didn't gaze. Not at her. He waited for something more interesting to happen. The same things happened everyday and, while they would be quite interesting to other people, they were no longer good enough for Zann to consider interesting.

Zann waited in dull silence for his best friend. For his brother. While everyone else in the castle was used to the movement of everyday life and quite fond of staying in that direction, Zann knew that Rolen would tag along in any strange idea's Zann could ever think of. Not because Rolen was stupid, of course, but because they were brothers. Zann would not do a thing without Rolen.

Zann twisted his lips into a small grin as he watched some of his cousins walk through the hallways, chittering at each other. They were young. They fiddled with their hands and their clothing as they walked by, each of them waving to Zann with grins. Zann lifted his fingers from his arms and watched them go, before turning his attention back to the door.

No sooner had his brother returned his attention to the door than a familiar presence made himself known. He had in his hand an apple that was a dull yellowy green color, one that said "I'm golden and delicious" and sounded quite fresh as he bit into the skin, breaking its perfect surface. After having chewed for a while, his free hand resting comfortably on his hip line, leaning slightly back in the center of the passage way, Rolen broke the comfortable silence. "What do you reckon is down there, Zann?" he asked, quite curious. "There's no handle to open the door, so how would we get in?"

Apparently, Rolen had already thought of Zann's idea. While the man who couldn't seem to grow facial hair, at least any that required the need to shave, had no other interest than merely what was behind the door, he knew Zann to be an adventurer, not suited towards this life of royalty and servants. He could already see the wheels turning in his brother's head about the door.

Zann's attention shifted to weigh Rolen and a sly smile spread across his face. "Spoiling dinner, are we?" He resisted the dire urge to grab the apple from the other man and take a bite. He had to admit it looked absolutely delicious. He twisted his lips, however, and looked at that door.

"I'm not sure, but I am convinced I need in there." There was no joke in his voice. Something was hidden down there and Zann was determined to know what. "Lately I've been thinking about chopping it down late at night and blaming it on a maid." Now that sentence was a joke, and he chuckled despite himself. "Don't you think we should know? What is so important that my father keeps it from me? I see everything else."

Taking another bite before twisting his elbow to offer it to Zann, Rolen let his head drop to the other side, thoughtfully observing the dark wooden door of old. "I don't think he means to keep it from you," he said before looking over at Zann normally. He raised both eyebrows and leaned his forehead towards the man.

"No one notices this hallway but us," he stated, indicating the next group of relations to pass by. Rolen nodded to them, not really expecting Zann to do much else while his concentration was fixed on the door and partly the apple. "And I'm sure even father doesn't know about what's down there." He smiled casually, repositioning to mirror Zann, still holding the apple. "And I doubt a maid would be strong enough. It'd have to be the chef. He cooks horribly enough to remind one of wood." Zann's humor was always funny, but Rolen had always been one to get that same smirk with his words.

Zann took the apple from his brother and was sure that the red silk of his coat fell back from his hand to avoid stain. "Chef it is," He said with a hint of mischief, taking a bite of the perfect apple. Zann shared everything he possibly could with Rolen, it wasn't rare for Rolen to shove some of his food at Zann if he didn't have any. Zann was usually eying some sort of food, especially if it was in Rolen's hands.

"I just have to know." It was like a sudden burst, and his lips twisted. He pulled his shoulders in as a loud gong rang through the hallway. Zann had forgotten that the large symbol was so close, it rang through his ears enough to make his left eye pull up in an almost-twitch.

"Well hell." He muttered. "Guess I better go burn holes into father at dinner till he tells me, yeah?" He laughed and took the last bite of the apple, moving through the long hallways toward the dining hall.

Rolen too had shaken at this large ringing of the gong, but had prepared for it when he noticed a man walking towards it. A broad smile played over his lips as he watched Zann's reaction, but hid it when he turned his way. "Try not to start him on fire, then," he said, keeping up with him. "It'd be nice if the conversations didn't end with a storm."

Having spent most of his life feeling like the second string to Zann in every event played in the large castle, Rolen had began to take a more withheld view of things. He felt quite like following Zann around like a lost puppy would a stranger but knew that he enjoyed the company.

It was true. Zann had a habit of getting his father spluttering with rage. There was something about the two of them that clashed just enough to get them standing across the table from each other yelling their side of view. His father claimed that Zann was too much like his uncle - the one that was almost crowned. Too quizzical and adventurous. Didn't have enough ground and logic to just stay home and do what he had to do.

This upset Zann just enough to push his father further. Zann loved his father and knew it was the same for both parties, but sometimes his father was so... careful. He was never sure of a bridge till it had been tested a million times. Zann twisted his lips at Rolen's comment, but made a vow to his brother to not start a fight. "I won't bring it up." He felt his skin itch with curiousity under the silk, and ran his hand through his carefully shaggy hair. He smiled and waited for the dining hall door to be opened for him.

Placing a hand on Zann's shoulder, Rolen's smile was cautious as the doors opened for them. He removed his hand as they did so, the comfort staying where intended, and clasped them behind his back, taking a regal pose. Although Rolen could not find literal relation with the Melireh family, the Tabepe had ties to them for as long as history was written. They were either the second or third most powerful family of the country besides Melirehs.

The servants serving the dinner had taken to standing behind the chairs. There were several added and the table was longer than before to accommodate the visiting relatives. They were distant and ruled over a land next to the one that Zann's father did. Once standing next to the chairs, the ladies were seated after the royal family and Rolen took his seat last by mere seconds.

"Let us feast," the king said, ending whatever speech Rolen paid little real attention to, other than to show he was listening. Glancing over at Zann, he raised an eyebrow before the first course was set down and the meal began. A buzzing hum of general twitter around the table began before he asked, "So it's tonight then? Our adventure?"

Zann had been busy ignoring his fathers speech as best as he could from the other side of his mother. He began to move foods onto his plate, being careful to never take too much. "Tonight." It never occured to Zann that he had made a serious plan to break through the door. It was in his head more than anything, yes, but Rolen asking made him alert.

"I am wondering how to prepare," Zann muttered before biting into a roll which he had dipped in gravy. "I have no idea what is in there, or where it leads to." He stopped himself, realizing his mother was listening. He looked at Rolen, as if saying We'll make the serious talk later.

"What are you preparing for, dear?" Zann's mother asked, turning her head to look at the two boys fully. She had enough knowledge about Zann to know that he was up to something. Zann cursed himself. He should have been more careful when speaking about such things. To fully speak of the door in front of his mother!

"Teaching Kaler Water Under The Bridge." Zann mentioned swiftly, nodding toward the fourteen year old cousin who sat on the otherside of the table. "Teaching him his sword movements." Zann eyed the pearls strung in his mothers hair and began thinking of the people who would kill themselves to have one of them.

Nodding at the hidden message, Rolen followed Zann's lead well. "I don't think he is able to really master it before leaving, though," he said. "Zann seems to think he's a great teacher of this technique when I have outclassed him in that stage." He chuckled, and shifted things about on his plate, taking a grape between his fingers.

"Besides," he said, popping it into his mouth, chewing quickly then swallowing before he opened it again. "I think between the two of them, that Borim has a better chance at it." He nodded to the second cousin as both giggled sneakily, or so they thought. One had been shoving the fruit on his plate that his mother had placed there under his napkin and accidentally squished one. A servant quickly removed it and took it out of the room as they giggled.

To that, Rolen gave them a look that they both caught before sitting upright and eating as gentlemen should in a hall. He waited until they had relaxed a bit before returning his gaze to their mother. "But sword movements are no talk for dinner, Mother. How has your day been? I simply forgot what you had told me you were planning to do today."

Gently, almost bluntly, Rolen changed the subject smoothly. He glanced over at Zann with a slightly worried look and hoped dinner would pass by without much more cause, but knew that he shouldn't have brought it up. While Zann was always cautious about speaking of adventuring in front of his parents, Rolen had no image to upkeep and thus could speak more freely on the matters.

"Ah, well then you can have Borim then... Master." Zann laughed quietly to himself, nudging Rolen for a minute before looking over at his mother as well. He couldn't for his life remember what she said she had going on that day. He frowned. He really should pay more attention to his parents and what they wanted. Zann had sat in on every talk of politics and every hearing and every word they said. At this point it seemed to completely mesh with each other, like the gravy and mashed potatoes on his plate.

Rolen had a way about him that Zann didn't, and Zann appreciated that. When Zann got himself into trouble Rolen usually found the way out of it. Now Zann watched their two younger cousins chuckle about their proposed lessons later. Zann, who usually loved teaching the two when they were around, itched to get dinner over with, his plans made, and for everyone to be sound asleep.

The next course had come and gone while hearing about what their mother had done today. Her day was busy in another sense of the word than theirs. She had spent her day reminiscing with her sister and then ended up paraded around town as a tour guide for the woman. They commissioned dresses for an upcoming celebratory ball and tea with the other ladies of the court. It was the usual things the women did.

Rolen had taken to leaning away from his mother, his arm resting on the arm rest of the chair, propping his head up and he listened, quite content to listen, but slowing the flow of food to his mouth. He'd learned that if you take fewer bites, one could appear to have eaten as much as expected. The servants certainly knew that he couldn't compete in the sport as the rest of the family could.

"What's the theme for the Ball, though?" he interrupted. "I've been meaning to ask since you first mentioned it. Isn't it in a few weeks?" During conversation, he'd had his glass refilled with plain juice that appeared to be wine. He never liked alcohol. Before their mother could speak, however, a servant called for their attention for which would be the dismissal of dinner and a call for coffee and cigars in the lounge for the men and tea for the women. That's what they called it whether or not drinking was involved. Children were sent to their respective rooms.

Rolen smiled, but looked to his mother as they stood. "It's the All Hallow's Eve Ball, Rolen," she said, almost chidingly. "I always thought that was your favorite Ball. Ah, but I beg you excuse me. I think I'm feeling my old age." She chuckled, gave both her boys a squeeze in hand before she walked down to her room.

Rolen watched her go before checking if anyone was around, then placing a hand on Zann's shoulder and walked back towards the hallway with the door. He waved over a servant and said, "I think we'll be off for bed. Mind you tell the King we've parted." The man nodded and moved about his business with a new mission. They were quite alone in the hallway that had grown dark, despite the fires in lamps outside and the bright shining stars.

Zann looked up, finding himself in front of the door with his hands on his hips, pondering it's existance once more. Their father would be quite upset that they hadn't gone for cigars, but Zann had a whole different idea. He glanced from side to side, ignoring the twinge that surged through him everytime Rolen and his parents got along better than he did.

"Perfect." He took to the door, noticing that no one was in the hallway or close to it. He put his hands on the hard wood, feeling it's smoothe texture and patterns under his hands. He pressed his cheek to it and smiled. "The plan. Pack for whatever you would think would be effecient. I have a feeling this leads somewhere."

"Leads somewhere?" he asked, a bit more confused than one could assume. Zann was known for his stories, occasionally. He was an amazing story teller, though, knowing just what to do, what to say, how to say it, the works. Rolen moved up to the part of the door Zann hadn't pressed against, the side opposite the hinges and placed a hand on it, running it slowly down the strange smoothness that seemed foreign on such an old door.

One would think one could get splinters in one's finger doing this motion, but Rolen never did, and neither did Zann as he listened to the speechless wood. He sighed. "How long do you think we'll be gone? I kind of need to know how many clothes to pack." It was his way of saying, fine, I think this won't work or doesn't lead anywhere, but I wanna open the door without actually admitting it. Rolen seriously admired Zann's ability to really admit to something he wanted.

"A forest." Was Zann's only answer. He didn't care to explain, either. After fingering the wood for a good several minutes, listening to it's silent guard, he had confirmed. There was something and he absolutely had to know. "I don't know, Rolen." Usually Zann would make up some answer and somewhere in the line of adventure it would be wrong and Rolen would be the first to climb on his shoulders and make him aware of it. This point was the time when Zann decided there wasn't an answer. "We could be gone forever."

The thought chilled him. It ran his blood ice cold in his veins. He could never see his mother or father or these useless servants ever again. While it chilled him, it also boiled. This was what he wanted more than anything in the world. To know. To know what was out there not read about it. He had to see, first hand, what was going on; Had to meet the peoples out there that he would soon be ruling over with Rolen as his flank. The idea of experiencing something so foreign excited Zann.

Consciously aware of the change in Zann, Rolen watched him as he stared intently at the door, as if just looking through it would tell him how to open it. Zann had his stories all right, but now was different. There weren't longing tales of adventure, this was it, right here in this doorway.

Looking back at the door, Rolen leaned his head to the side again and placed his fingertips on the bare wood. He watched, slowly moving his hand over it until finally, it hit something. It was cold, it was metal. The form was a simple knob with little decoration. The texture felt flat and cold and was obviously there, but as he watched his hand curl around the handle, he saw no fame for it or even the handle itself.

"Zann," he said quietly, as if speaking more than one word would ruin the magic he knew was inside it. Rolen gripped the handle, spun it, and slowly pulled it towards the pair, not knowing what was to happen.

Zann was lost in thought. It took him a minute to register his eyes on Rolen's hand and what was under it. He looked up to meet Rolen's eyes excitedly and nodded once, as if saying the time is now. He gripped the inside of the door and moved through into the dark, opening the door only wide enough for himself.

"Come through..." Zann whispered, still not quite sure what was in the room. "Make sure not to close the door all the way unless there is a handle on the other side." While he spoke, he searched for a torch and flint, his hands grazing over every inch of darkness till he found what he wanted. He set the torch down and nicked the flint in it's direction, exploding the hallway in light.

The flame that lit was a bright green yellow and wasn't hot, just simply light. Rolen followed, pulling it closed with nothing, leaving enough space for his fingers to fit through. He turned around just as the light hit his eyes, causing him to flinch slightly. He shielded his eyes for a moment from the light, looking down the path instead of at Zann.

"Ugh," he said after a little bit. "It stinks in here." The odor wasn't exactly anything with a bad smell, just a strong scent. Rolen moved forwards, a little past the light and looked around. Dripping water could be heard and he noticed the floor stopped, but he saw the ceiling angled itself. "I think those are stairs."

"Smells like a cave should smell." Zann said, "Like bat." He frowned and held the torch out in front of him, starting down the stairs slowly. They weren't even or polished. It looked as if the stairs and the hallway had been chipped out of a solid rock wall with a chisel and nothing more. Zann covered his nose and moved more effeciently up the stairs.

At the bottom, there was nothing but hallway. It took a sharp right, to where Zann had no idea. He mapped out the entire castle in his head. If he was correct, they had gone down an entire floor and below the first. They were now in unchartered hallways of the castle. Hallways that were kept secret.

"It's a tunnel." Zann said, holding the torch out in front of him.

Rolen shrugged at the cave smell thing, following Zann as he went down the stairs. He kept quiet as he followed, placing a hand on the walls occasionally to steady himself, but quickly retracted it as it was wet and slimy feeling. Mold splattered the wall in odd places.

Feeling like it had been longer than their usual stair cases, Rolen came to the same conclusion this lead to a level beneath the ground. He nearly ran into Zann at the bottom of the stair case. "Who would build these things?" he asked rhetorically. "Who would want to?"

"Because it leads to something!" Zann was getting gittery now, the excitement on his voice. "Think about it. It isn't built perfectly like the rest of the castle because noone was ever supposed to actually go down here. It was supposed to only be for the people who knew about it." He paused, taking a deep breath. "I bet something phenominal is on the other side. Something out of this world."

Zann kept on, this time a little slower. His excitement could get the best of his emotions but not his physical power. He was alert, in all senses, for a sound, a movement, anything.

The torch went out. Wind gusted past both of them, pushing Zann towards the wall. Small pin hole sized lights swarmed in front of his face causing a light glow that was too dim to really see anything except those pin holes. A miniature planet flew past his ear towards the being that was Rolen. Trees and plants seemed to grow from the stone of the floor. Light emitted from an open hand, floated above it for mere seconds before it split into many pieces and scattered to even intervals towards the direction they were headed in.

In the place of Rolen stood a very tall masculine creature that felt feminine. White hair crowned its head as his clothing swarmed, pulsed, as if really living. The being extended a hand towards Zann, as the man had somehow ended up on the ground. "I am Khronos," a strangely monotone voice stated. "This passage is a portal. One made when Rolen was born. One made by me." Once he straightened to his full 9 foot height, he continued. "I am surprised that it took you, Zanner't'caliden Melireh, to find this. It's been calling you for many a year now." He smiled.

"Follow the tunnel. Destiny awaits you and your brother. Destiny may separate you from each other, but know that a guiding hand will always bring you back to one another." The being's image flickered as he spoke. "Rolen is fighting. You must tell him who he is." With this last motion, Khronos touched Zann's forehead with his right index finger and placed his left hand over his heart just before Rolen's form collapsed on Zann.

Zann had stood, wide eyed, through the whole display. Then, as the man had explained, Zann's eyes narrowed. Of course. While he should be happy for his friend for holding a Greek God captive in his - Wait? Happy? Why should he be happy? Zann held Rolen up without any obvious effort for a moment, not realizing that the other man was slipping slowly from his grasp. A vessel? For a greek god?

Zann came to and pulled Rolen up right. "Are you alive?" That was a stupid question, but it passed through Zann's lips before he could think about it. Why was Zann supposed to figure the door out, if it was made for Rolen? What was Zann's significance? Rolen already out-ranked Zann with his parents and now he was a vessel for a greek god?

Zann let out the breath he had been holding deep inside of his chest, and cocked his head at his brother. He was near to regretting opening the door, now. If his father found out - and he would - about Rolen's phenominal ability, he would jump through every loop to have Rolen in power instead of Zann.

Zann was angry, but at himself, for being so.. plain. So dull. So into adventure rather than his purpose. He fingered the scar below his ear, tracing it's twists and turns with the pad of his index. "You're okay, right?"

Rolen mumbled something before bringing a hand to his head. "I feel like I've been hit by too many bulls," he said, standing on his own a bit more. With his hand rubbing his forehead, he glanced around, squinting in the light. "Where did all this light come from?"

Unaware of how he ended up this way, Rolen looked to Zann with a very lost expression. It didn't occur to him just what had happened, nor did he remember it. "What happened?" As strong as he seemed, the man before Zann felt helpless and lost. His confusion couldn't let him think about anything but the throbbing his body felt.

"You, uh, passed out. Like you fainted. Must be from the little air in here." For extra effect, Zann coughed into his palm, hoping Rolen didn't realize it was fake. "I'm feeling the same myself." He didn't try to explain the light. He hoped that Rolen would forget he had asked.

"Anyway, we need to keep moving." Zann took his hands off of Rolen and rose his eyebrows at his brother, waiting. He watched the faint boy with an indifferent expression. I am nothing. "You can walk by yourself, yeah?"

Shuddering a little, Rolen nodded. "Yeah, let's go," he said, indeed able to stand on his own. His head's throbbing went away as he straightened up, shorter than Zann as always. He looked over his brother and mentally sighed. This man would be great. He'd make a difference in the world, he'd be remembered.

The hallway seemed unchanging for a long ways. Straight, repeating, endless. Even the smaller details seemed to run together. Rolen watched the walls as they walked, breathing through a line in his mouth rather than through his nose. He glanced at Zann a few times, unobtrusively. He seemed preoccupied with something on his mind, but despite dying of curiosity, Rolen would let him talk when he wanted. The branded scar, his golden ring, the way Zann carried himself made Rolen feel small in contrast. He wasn't even royal; just wearing the corner of the cloak it was.

Zann's frown was still creasing his lips, and he noticed it. He grimaced and tried to change it into a smile. "This is.. well, boring." He stuck his hands out now and then to touch the sides of the walls. They were wet, somehow, but Zann couldn't imagine why. He pondered for a long moment how long they had been walking. With no way to tell time, he could never be sure.

Zann finally looked over at Rolen, finally able to look at the man that his parents liked much better. "I guess this wasn't such a great adventure at all. I spent all my time in front of that damn door, trying to decipher it and here we are... In a hallway with nothing."

Rolen shrugged and merely looked at the walls, remembering his own touching of the cold, moss covered stone. The dripping noises had faded into background noise along with their footsteps.

"I wouldn't call it nothing," he said, looking at Zann for a moment before looking down the hallway. "We found out you don't pass out from lack of air." He looked side-long at Zann a moment before biting his cheek not to smile until Zann did.

Zann chuckled, grinning a little bit. "Yeah, I guess I'll win the swimming contests at the festival now, eh?" His laughter filled the hallway but didn't stop the echo in his heart.

"I just wonder what's back here... So far in. I would figure we've walked close to a mile." Zann's lips twisted again. "For the life of me, I cannot figure it out." He fiddled with the cuffs on his sleeves, feeling the silk surrounding his body. He knew it was red, blood red. He didn't have to see it. He knew the buttons were made from gold, and he didn't have to see or touch those to know that either. It felt dooming. Claustrophobic.

Or maybe it was just the hallway.

Zann looked at Rolen. "What do you figure?"

Smiling openly now, Rolen took on a thoughtful expression. "Maybe we need to turn back or something," he said, before looking at the walls again. "Or maybe we're wandering in circles and this is just an illusion." He was thinking back to the balls and festivals and performances of magicians and illusionists that always seemed to boggle his mind.

Zann never really believed those kinds of things, at least he never told Rolen if he did. Strange as it sounds, Rolen was easily impressed by the mystical rather than the informational.

"Maybe." But Zann didn't think so. It could be an illusion of the brain, yes, but there wasn't magic here. This hallway was too... discarded to be enchanted.

"Maybe we should turn back." His gut feeling told him to keep moving forward. Zann had a lot of gut feelings, whether they be hunger or impulse. "But let's go just a little further. Something has got to be down here."

Shrugging and taking Zann's pace, Rolen took to walking with his brother down the hall. After about fifteen more minutes of walking, the path made a T shape, intersecting another passageway. "Oh great," Rolen said, pretending to be impatient. "Which way?"

Zann rolled his eyes at Rolen's obvious impatience. He was always this way. Always impatient when something didn't bite him on the ankle. Zann frowned, trying to figure out where they were, and where the two sides could lead. While he stood in silence like stone trying to find it in him to figure it out - or maybe Rolen would explode into a God again and explain everything - Zann heard something.

Ears perking to hear the sound, Zann turned to listen. It came from the left side, but what was it? It sounded like a scratching sound and metal clanking. "Rolen.. Something's down there."

Also hearing the sound, Rolen glanced that way, listening quite intently. Who could be down there and survive? No one had been down here, least not since they were born. He looked back to Zann.

"You wanna go that way, then?" he asked, curious to see where this adventure would take them. Zann seemed to always have a sense of direction, even in a forest where after ten minutes, the trees seemed to repeat.

"Yes." Zann had no further reasoning or comments to lead him in the direction. He started down the left side of the hallway, moving quicker this time. If it was a monster, it would kill him. If it was something else...

The hallway took a sharp turn to the left again. Zann rounded the corner without even thinking. He was near to running now. Running until...

"Get AWAY from me!" It was a hiss. The sound caught Zann off guard enough to make him hault, having to lean against the damp walls for support. "Rolen!" He whispered.

Rolen kept up reasonably well with Zann. He ran a few paces behind him and slowed when he heard the hissing voice. despite his calm, more or less reaction, his heart pounded in his throat. He swallowed before reaching to his brother, but felt somewhat inquisitive, rather than fearful.

Something made him look at the lock on the shackles rather than the form it held. "Zann," he whispered, "I've seen those before, those shackles." He focused on them and concentrated to try remembering why they seemed so familiar, but just couldn't place it.

"Where?" Although Zann was much more interested in the body in the shackles, he always listened to Rolen's words first. His excitement for the strange woman infront of them could wait... for now.

She was hissing, up on her hands and knee's, baring her teeth to the two men. Zann felt almost affectionate toward her, although she was obviously fearing for her life - and angry. Her teeth were pointed sharp, like that of a vampire from legends, snapped together. He could see their translucent sheen, and he studied her.

"Get away!" Was her next hiss, backing into the corner now. What would she do? Zann wondered. Would she fight back if I moved closer.

"Can you remember where you saw them?" Zann asked Rolen in a low voice, still eyeing the deadly creature infront of him.

Rolen concentrated but he couldn't place it. Something else came to ind instead, however. "No," he said, a slight defeat in the single word. The being's limbs looked as if they had been there for a while.

"Try talking to-" he paused a moment, "her," he replied back. "She can speak our language so that's got to count for something." Somehow, calling this female human seemed off and insulting, but to whom or why, he wasn't sure.

Zann twisted his lips and thought about what he would say to the... very obviously pissed off female in front of him. Somehow, 'we aren't going to hurt you' just didn't cut it. He focused for a minute and then finally looked up at her, claiming defeat. "We aren't going to hurt you."

"The hell you aren't!" Every word from her was cut sharp by her teeth, snapping the words out. "You!" Her finger pushed out toward Zann. "You look just like him."

Zann pondered this for a minute and then looked at Rolen. "Father did this."

Shifting his weight, Rolen finally looked over the creature. She had a stunning beauty about her that made him very nearly think she was a human but as he observed, her teeth and ears were pointed in a way that said she wasn't human, just humanoid.

"You can change that," he said looking at Zann. "The pins are weak at the join. The right tug will free her. Show her your compassion." Rolen didn't gesture as he spoke like he normally would have.

Zann knew, at that moment, that he had to be the one to do it. Rolen wouldn't take a step forward. He bit at his lips for a minute and looked at Rolen. "We have to get it - her - out of here." He looked at the female again, and let compassion take over his eyes.

"Please trust me, I wont hurt you." He took a small step forward, resisting the urge to push his hand out for her to smell it like a dog. He watched her gorgeous nose flare as he moved closer, watched her bunch into a pile of ivory.

With steady hands he took a hold of the chains binding her. "I will break the chains, for now, and once we get you out of the walls, I will remove the shackles, all right?" Zann watched her, for a moment, watched her cower. Then, slowly she moved her arm in his direction, and he took the chains gently in his hands, and forced the links apart. He repeated the procedure till he was finished with all four, and stood, holding his hands out to her.

For once, he was happy that he was nothing like his fatehr. "My name is Zanner't'caliden; Call me Zann. This is Rolen, my brother. I am nothing like my father, I promise I wont hurt you."

Taking a careful step forward, Rolen moved in line with his brother. There was Zann's gift in action, there was his difference. Not only could Zann be compassion embodied but he could better the world. Rolen may be the favorite of parents that weren't his, but he was more selfish than people knew.

Zann looked at Rolen and then smiled, "We wont hurt you." A promise.

"Syrel." Was her reply, her long black hair falling in silk strands around her face as she looked down at her scantly clothed body and dirty limbs. She had an urge to run, but she knew she would find no way out. She bit at her lips with the two fangs protruding. "I do not trust you. But I will let you lead me." She winced, waiting for the moment when their lie would be revealed.

Glancing to Zann and seeing his comforting smile, Rolen smiled then too. It was pleasant. Not to seem removed from the situation, he took to unbuttoning the outer shirt he wore and removed it, offering it to Syrel. "That's a name I don't think I've heard before," he said. "Where are you from, Syrel?" He had no idea if she'd accept the outer shirt. It had all the fancy embroidery and hun to the thigh on him, but it didn't have any sleeves; that was the under shirt.

Syrel took a deep breath, grabbing the long artical of clothing. She put it on slowly, smelling it, cringing before she let it fall to her skin. "I am from Armenthai." She then cowered closer to the corner. "You might recognize me only because I am a banshee."

"Banshee?" he asked before a flood of memories flew past. The gods that chose Rolen as a vessel had each a hand in the fate of these creature-ish beings that some did not view as fair, thus they bickered amongst themselves.

Voices shifted in and out of coherency in Rolen's head, causing it to throb painfully. His hand shot to the corresponding temple. He also stepped back half a pace, but steadied himself with his free hand that luckily found a bare, dry spot.

Syrel hissed and pointed at Rolen. "See!" The word sounded as if it came out of a snakes mouth. "You're not safe!" She began pulling the vest off as fast as possible, eager to have the human scent off of her. "You lie!"

Zann glowered in Rolen's directon. Why couldn't he just hold his fit till afterward? He turned his attention back to Syrel. "No lies, Syrel." He said, licking his lips slowly. "My brother... he's just a little... strange."

The hallway blurred as it darkened. Rolen fell to the ground, thudding on the floor quite limply. He was breathing, slowly, just like he was sleeping, but otherwise unresponsive.

"See what I mean?" Zann said to Syrel, while still looking at Rolen. He bent and touched Rolen in the correct places to make sure he was still breathing. While Zann outwardly put it off like it was a usual thing, Zann worried about his brother. Two incidents just in the - what? An hour? - that they were in the hallway. Zann twisted his lips and began to talk to Rolen, coaxing him back to awareness.

Syrel had crouched down very low when the other man fell, the one she didn't like. She watched as the one who seemed to be the older brother crouched and began to take care of the fallen. Still in the crouch, she moved around closer to watch what Zann was doing, her black eyes still very intent on his hands and his motives.

Suffice to say, Rolen was quite gone; not in the sense he was dead, but rather in the sense he'd be out for a while.

A bird-lie squawk resonated off the walls as if from a long distance. The sound was strange and unique in the exotic sense. Wind blew toward the trio, but only slightly. A dull blue-ish purple light was seen beyond the corner.

Syrel was the first to move. She danced back away from the two and back into her corner, trying to look as if her chains weren't broken. She hissed through her teeth, trying to make it seem as if she hadn't somehow been getting close to the two.

Zann was next. He eyed Rolen and then Syrel before he noticed the light coming around the corner. He moved to pull Rolen up, and waited, bracing for the outburst.

Mere moments later, a large human-sized creature stepped around the corner, Beginning from the large talon-bearing claws, the creature changed. She shimmered into a woman's form, the indigo light continuing to glow. "Western King?" she asked, looking extremely confused. She had a strange accent, like she was using too much air to speak, even though everything was understandable. "Your majesty," she said, slightly recovered and bowing deeply to her knees with her eyes to the ground.

Rolen lay unchanged in Zann's arms.

Zann bit at his lips and cocked his head as he watched the woman change from strange bird. He glanced at Rolen, first and frowned. What in the hell was going on here? In less than an hour, Rolen had two strange outbursts, he met Syrel and now here was this... -bird woman?- thinking he was the king. There was just no way in hell Zann's brain could process it all.

"I.. am not... the king.. I'm... the prince?" At this point, Zann wasn't sure what he was and what he was doing. This all felt strangely surreal. He blinked a few times and then he became excited. All of this excitement just waiting behind a door! Think of the possibilities!

Syrel watched the yellow haired boy. His face had changed from nervous to sad to excited in about four seconds tops. These people were strange, that was one thing for sure. Now, to make things even stranger, there was a shifter. Syrel sighed.

Looking back up at Zann, she surveyed him quickly before up-righting herself, a slight blush barely reddening her cheeks. "Forgive me," she replied apologetically. She glanced towards Syrel and her eyes narrowed. "I thought you were in chains, banshee." It only implied her curiosity as to how she got out. This shifter was a messenger, whether or not she understands the message.

Zann took a step back toward Syrel, standing in a protective structure. He didn't know what the other woman was, but suddenly he felt the need to protect this prisoner. Zann bared his teeth, Rolen's weight not much of a burden for the moment... not with all his pent up excitement.

Syrel hissed from around Zann's legs, curling into them as if he were her master. If she had any doubt about the boy before, she now didn't. If he would put himself between her and the bird-woman, she was grateful. She held onto his calves, as if to hold him steady.

This woman looked far more bird-like with her eyes narrowed. She moved her hand to her hip and looked over the scene: the banshee that had been in chains was now freed from the king's chains by the son and...his friend? There wasn't any resemblance between the young men besides their age. She barely looked at Rolen before now, but once she saw him, her eyes widened and her suspicious expression changed to such a frightened look. "GET THAT THING AWAY FROM ME!" she screamed, backing away and tripping herself in the process. "You need to leave him there," she said frantically. "He is forbidden from your destination, Zanner't'caliden. Prince Melireh, please, come with e before he awakens!" The woman's form changed into a winged hybrid of her humanoid form. She looked neither bird nor human at this point. "Bring the banshee with you." This time, she didn't mean the word as an insult, merely a word to use as identification; she never heard of the female's name and ha only met her once, when she was originally chained.

Zann cocked his head, still excited sbout the movement behind the door. He knew it! He knew there was something spectacular and weird hiding behind the door. "Thing? This 'thing' is my brother, Ms... uh.." He paused. "Damnit. Call me Zann and tell me what the hell is going on."

She eyed him as Zann held on to his brother. "Laenga," she replied. "My name is Laenga Tirth. I'm a messenger." She kept her eyes on the guy out cold. "He's not what you think he is, Zann." She flicked her eyes towards the light and back. "It's not going to stay open. We need to go back." She said, looking straight at Zann. "But he can't go with us." She glanced back at him. "He's forbidden to return."

Zann pondered on this for a moment, holding Rolen even tighter now. "No." He shook his head. Sure he was all about adventure and getting out, but this was another thing entirely. "I refuse to leave my brother here alone, no matter how... strange he is." He looked back at Syrel who, by the look of it, was very terrified. "Take Syrel. Free her. If you do not free her... I will find you." The threat was open, but very heavy.

Syrel's eyes flew open from where she was curled around his legs. "Me? Go with her? Please." The last word was a hiss and in insult all at once. "I'm staying with you and the... Rolen."

Laenga didn't quite take the open threat as much of a threat. Something in Rolen had great power that shaped her world, that terrified her people, but looking at the sleeping man, she couldn't see what he had that made her natural instinct of flight nearly take her. Zann was who she came for. If taking Rolen with them was the only way he'd come, so be it. She had greater fear for those who sent her than this prince of the Western King.

Still somewhat shaken as this went through her mind, she merely nodded and stood up, her back still against the wall, not shifting her form from the half-bird. "Then you'll need to bring him," she said. "My message was to you, Zanner't'caliden, and if you will only come with me to hear it by bringing your...brother along, then I will not get punished for following orders."

A facade of strength appeared over the woman-bird as she waited. "Please, the magic is fading and we still have not left," she replied, waving with a winged arm for the trio to follow. Even if she was told to bring him alone, the order to get him there no matter the cost weighed far more on her head. "We can wake him once we've arrived, Zann."

Zann very unfortunately saw now other choice for himself at this point. He slung the limp Rolen over his shoulder and turned to face Syrel. He didn't say anything to her except to hold his arm out so she would take it. "Syrel comes, as well. I will not be removed from these two."

Syrel frowned at his arm, but reached a long nailed hand up to curl around his strong muscles. She glared at the bird woman but nodded to Zann. She was ready. She moved slightly behind Zann, where she would stay. Maybe for now... Maybe for the rest of her life.

"Follow the light," Laenga said as she turned towards it. "And don't stop once inside. If you stop moving, you will be lost." She didn't take many steps before waiting for the trio to come closer. She changed back into a woman to give the group some kind of comfort in seeing a more humanoid creature.

Zann followed wearily, holding Rolen up and making sure Syrel followed him. He never stopped moving, not once. Even if they came to a hault, he moved some part of his body.