Young Writers Society

When Rileni was suddenly on the ground and his tail was on fire it was safe to say he was a bit concerned. He made a sound that sounded an awful lot like a bird squawking, and the knife was sitting on the ground several feet away. He put out the fire with his cloak. God the burns hurt. He shakily stood up, and quite immediately fell over again. His breathing was quickening and his vision was going blurry.

No. Not here.

He scooted backwards towards the crops, attempting to hide in them somehow, Managing to drag his freshly wounded tail in the dirt and through the glowing flowers that dotted the sides of the road. It stung and he hissed at the pain. His heartbeat quickened more.

The scraggly looking teen in cleric's robes jumped back, whimpering as the spell hit the figure next to him. Rizzo was stunned for half a second, What kind of moron... She snapped out of it and a flash of jewel-colored light appeared around her hand, which she brought up in a sweeping motion.

With the same speed, the same glow, tendrils of light like melted glass snaked up from the ground around the aggressor's feet and wrapped around him in the blink of an eye, reaching out and abruptly tightening to secure his arms to his body.

She glanced again at the building. Thankfully, no one seemed to see anything. Yet.

"What do you think you're doing?!" she said, controlling her volume but not her tone. She shifted her grip on her staff, holding it, now, as though ready to cast another spell.



Bobby was wide-eyed, too stunned to speak, or cry, or run, or do anything but stare in shock at the...the person on the ground, crawling away. What was that?!

It looked like something out of a movie, a book, a something that wasn't real. This wasn't real. But it was. It really, really was. He knew it.

Suddenly, Bobby found himself going to the person. The urge to cry wasn't so intense as he knelt down just beside the edge of the field. He didn't want to ruin someone else's crops, even if some of them were already bent.

He hesitated. What now?

Someone was hurt.

Soul had thought the threat of violence was gone, but the hooded man had just attacked the man that looked like Mage. Soul rushed over to the injured man's side; he knew how sensitive tails could be.

All he would have to do was touch the wound. It was an easy place to heal. But when Soul crouched down beside him and grabbed the area around the burn, nothing happened. The burns didn't heal. The warmth that accompanied magic didn't appear in the air.

And Soul didn't feel his magic.

He pulled his hands back, eyes widening in horror as he stared down at them. Why couldn't he use the magic that had always felt more like him? Why was he stuck with the powerful, wild magic he had never felt comfortable using?

"This doesn't make any sense," Soul whispered. "I should be able to use my healing magic. Why can't I use my magic?"

A few feet away, Mage was standing near the hooded man and the woman who had just stopped him. She looked strange - she had the pointed ears of a demon, but none of the other characteristics.

But what she was didn't matter. A fight had just happened and might continue, and Mage had to be prepared. He held out a hand; he imagined his darkness and fire wrapping around it in thin strands.

But neither form of magic appeared.

His eyes widened in horror underneath his hood.

Ryke does not understand what’s restraining him. It’s like a really bright and warm rope that’s swirled around, it cuts him if he tries too hard to slip out. He regrets not being more focused on the woman earlier, but this time around he has caught some crucial details.

There’s something about the house in the distance. The witch keeps looking back at it while also consciously holding back her voice. Ryke remembers seeing some movement through the windows of that house shortly after he appeared on the road. The witch’s behavior confirms Ryke’s suspicion that the house has occupiers and she does not want them to find out about this commotion. This is something he can leverage.

“Renounce your spells at once,” says Ryke, “and I vow to answer any questions you may have.

“Otherwise, be aware, I am a dragonborn. This of couse is not an empty threat. No, it is a reminder that I bear the dragon’s roar in my lungs — something tells me it is in your interest that you do not prompt it.”

Ryke contemplates the idea of being vowbound to her — it’s a risky play but in his mind it’s a calculated one — and awaits a reaction.

Bobby didn't pay attention to the fighting. He was too afraid to. There was flashing and shouting and he was very, very good at tuning that out. He didn't think things worked like they did in the city here, but if they did it was better for him to look like he didn't notice a thing. He didn't see anything, he didn't hear anything.

He focused really hard on the hurt person instead. The way he - or maybe she or they - looked reminded him of demons, like in the paintings at the church. He didn't think he could ask about that now, though.

Another person came over and tried to do something, but it didn't work. Bobby wasn't paying attention. He felt like...like he knew what to do.

He reached out, slowly, and halted his hand right over the injured person's body. He said a word he didn't know the meaning of, or he shouldn't have known the meaning of. There was a warm kind of feeling in his veins, like the blood in his chest had gotten warmer and was now spreading to his fingertips. Once it reached them, they filled with a golden glow, so bright Bobby couldn't see, and he had to close his widening eyes.

Like someone hit a switch, the glowing abruptly stopped, and Bobby's eyes blinked back open. The Person's open wounds were all healed, scarred, but even those were slightly faded. Like they'd been there years. Bobby knew the difference.

His mouth opened, then closed. What...



Rizo hesitated, contemplating his offer. Her eye's flitted to the building.

Finally, she dipped her head and held out a hand, with a flick of her wrist and a flash the tethers vanished. She didn't take her eyes off of him.

"What was the purpose of your attack?" she asked carefully, still holding her staff at the ready. She didn't trust him in the slightest.

Rileni would have punched the guy who touched him in the face if he hadn't been so panicky. He hadn't given him permission to lay a finger on him, the only person he had was the child, and he hadn't even touched him when he moved his hands closer, they had just hovered there. He could tell the poor kid wanted to help. However, he hadn't expected the extremely bright glowing or the fact that his wounds looked years old all-of-the-sudden.

"How did you...?" he began and then lost the words he was going to say. This had to be some sort of technology he wasn't aware of, though he'd never seen anything remotely like it.

He was still shaking pretty badly, but the display of people protecting him had calmed him a little. He would've felt more comfortable if the white-haired lady hadn't released the man who'd attacked him.

He took a deep breath and attempted standing again, wanting to compose himself. "Thank you," He said to the young boy.

Soul took a step back from the boy and the formerly injured man. He was still staring down at his traitorous hands. He hadn't been the one to heal the injured man; if he had been, the wounds wouldn't even have scars. But that part really didn't matter - what mattered was that he was cut off from one of the few things about himself that felt right.

A second later, Mage appeared at his side.

"Soul," Mage whispered. He sounded like he was about to cry, but was doing an unsurprisingly good job at looking ominous to any observer. "There's something wrong with me. I-I can't use my Sin. What am I supposed to do?"

Something wet slid down Soul's cheek.

Which was strange, considering that there wasn't a single storm cloud above them.

"Something's wrong with me, too," he whispered. "I can't heal."

When another wet thing slid down his cheek, Soul was shocked to realize he was crying.

Ryke is a little surprised that she took the offer. He is thankful but doesn’t verbalize it.

Lying to her about the bag is not an option anymore. But he can still decide how much of the truth gets exposed — a tempting option it is. Ryke wonders whether the witch can be trusted at all, the lacerations from her spell are after all still fresh. Did she do it just to cloak the chaos or were the motivation altruistic? Ryke has made up his mind.

“The purpose of my aggression,” says Ryke, looking the witch in the eye, “was to protect my daughter.”

Ryke feared he’d choke before uttering that last word. Instead, he’s holding back tears. The contrast between who he had been for decades, and who he is trying to be at present baffles him. It can’t be that simple, he wonders.

Is it merely a lie that I believe so truly, enough to fool the gods? Degenerate...

He cuts the self-loathing stream of thought short by contemplating his impulse to reveal something so vital. He knows she doesn't trust him and the feeling is mutual — indeed there's a lot of that going around here, so it was time a leap of faith was taken, he wonders. But is it just an excuse to cover up the fact for once he got desperate... made a misjudgement and made a mistake?

Perhaps, there is more than meets the eye to a witch who opts to cross a dragonborn, out of sympathy for a creature she knows not. There has to be.

Rizo blinked in confusion, but her grip on the staff relaxed. "I...Your daughter?" she asked, looking around. Aside from herself, there didn't appear to be any girls present, let alone any girls young enough to be this man's daughter. Maybe he thought that the others - whoever they were - were threats to her somehow? Maybe he knew them?

The more she thought about it, the less it made sense. She began to fear that maybe this man had been struck by madness. If that was the case, there was the question of how he got into the valley.

One question at a time.



Bobby's mouth opened, then closed, and opened again. No words. His mind was reeling and no words could form.

What was that?!

"I..." he blinked, finally managing to get a grasp on his manners, and dipped his head, "You're welcome." He had no idea what he had done, or why it warranted thanks. He didn't even know, for sure, if it was him who did...that.

What if it was someone else who did that, and he just happened to be there? Was he taking credit for someone else's...healing, or whatever it was? The tips of his ears burned red at the thought. It could have been that other person?

He looked up and spotted the person...crying? Bobby blinked. He felt the urge to go over there for some reason. He couldn't talk to the person. They looked scary, dangerous, and no one liked it when street kids talked to them first, or talked to them at all.

Still, Bobby wanted to know what was wrong.

He might as well introduce himself, he thinks. It might help ease some of the tension. Rileni steps forward, towards the kid, and bows. Its still quite obvious that he's shaking.

He never would've expected a stranger to help him, and as far as he was concerned, he owed the child something, money, power, something.

"My name is Rileni Shanil, second in command to the Solvar, a glorious ship that has sailed many a galaxy. Whats your name?" He straightens himself up and holds out his hand for a handshake.

There were two conversations going on nearby, but all the only thing that really had Mage's attention was Soul. Soul was someone that he looked up to. He had never known Soul when he was with Zogin; Soul was the one who made all of the decisions, even if they sometimes pretended that Mage was the one in charge.

He had never seen Soul cry.

He wasn't capable of it, before this. He wasn't capable of feeling, either. Not when his body wasn't like it was now, and not when he was wearing thick, heavy armor. Mage was still having trouble seeing the man before him as the one he had been traveling with for what felt like an eternity.

He wanted to cry, too. He wanted to act like he wasn't affected by everything - like this was normal. But he looked weird. Soul looked weird. Neither could use their Sin.

But what he wanted to do most was return some of the kindness Soul had shown him.

Tail almost nervously wrapping around his legs, Mage scooted a little closer to Soul and gave him a hug. A second passed before Soul returned it.

The two stood there as the conversations continued on around them. When both felt like they had gotten the most comfort they could get - and Mage felt like he had done a sufficiently good job at getting his tears out into Soul's unfamiliar clothes - they turned their attention back to the others.

Ryke directs his focus, and subsequently the witch’s, to the other people in the road. He has been focused on the white-haired witch and his own emotions for a while and is now a little confused at the state of the four figures — two of them seem to have been crying, although they weren’t the ones hurt, the other two are about to (shake hands?) With a shake of head he snaps his attention back to what’s important.

“Her name’s Lagertha. The bag you see,” says Ryke, while the witch stares at the crowd, “is a dimension-device. It cloaks her, takes care of her. I carry it with me, wherever I go, but when I found myself on this track, the bag seemed to have disappeared.”

Bobby hesitated, staring down at the very not human hand that was extended to him, then took it, avoiding eye contact with the- with Mr. Shanil. "Most people call me Bobby," he managed.



Rizo looked from the dragonborn to the bag, and the child carrying it, and back, piecing together a solution. The situation wasn't complicated, but it could be delicate. The boy with the bag already looked to be on the verge of tears.

Relaxing her posture and her grip on her staff, Rizo approached the boy, overhearing him introduce himself to the tiefling. "Hi, I think that belongs to the gentleman over there," she gestured first to the bag, then to the dragonborn.

The kid, Bobby, jumped and blinked at her, "I didn't steal it," he said quickly, instantly slipping the strap over his head and holding it out to her.

Her eyebrows drew together. Later. I can deal with that later. She took the bag carefully and returned it to the dragonborn. It was only after she handed it over that she thought that maybe he had been lying.

Cruel, elaborate lie, she thought to herself and filed that, too, away as an issue to deal with at a later point in time. What kind of man would lie about something like that, after all? Holding the bag hadn't given her the impression that it was anything special magic-wise, and she realized she should have looked inside before giving it over.

She sighed and adjusted her hat, then turned to face the group as a whole. She would get answers to the obvious questions first, leave the complicated stuff for later.

"My name is Rizo, my friends call me Zoe," she introduced herself, "Who are all of you?" and how, by all the gods and demons of the etherial plain, did you get into this valley?

Soul glanced over at Mage. Both of them had stopped crying, but neither knew what parts they were supposed to play now. Soul wasn't supposed to be like this, and Mage was something different than what he usually was. What were their roles now?

He pushed the thought aside. He wasn't sure what Mage was going to do, but he knew his role. It never changed, really. He was just himself. The only thing that changed was who he was in relation to other people.

"I'm Soul," he offered. He gave another smile, but this one felt more natural than all of the ones that had come before. "My full name is Soul Error Arwitch, but no one ever calls me that."

There was an awkward pause.

Then Mage quietly, hesitantly said, "My name is Magestorrow Rian."

The kid gives the bag up quite easily, to Ryke’s surprise. The witch takes it and brings it over to him — every second feels elongated until he has the bag in his hands.

Ryke gives the witch a subtle nod, the kind that is gestured subconsciously and goes unnoticed, although her eyes remain narrow, filled with distrust. As she goes over to introduce herself to the others in the road, Ryke pulls a short chord on the side of the bag and blips out of existence, or perhaps just out of this plane, for a split second and returns before anyone could possibly take notice, or so he hopes.

His facial expression also changes following the blip, although it’s hidden beneath the hood, and now has a hopeful shine to it.

Zoe, he hears. Rather unusual name for a witch. She doesn't seem to know anyone on the road, and so it is possible that she did not play a part in their summoning, but Ryke wants to know more before he proceeds to theorize.

The others seem to be introducing themselves now. Soul. Magestorrow.

"Ragnesson," he joins in. "Ryke Ragnesson the sixth, if you truly must know."