The radiant child scoffed at this albino, this being of light. He considered what he was saying, already having known some of it, surprised by another portion, and considering the rest to be lies and theory. " It is not so much that we are the manifestation, or even the many creations of a god, or gods. We do not believe in a faceless deity waggling a finger from the great beyond. I am a child of gods, a spawn of their union, and the two rulers of this land you see before you are born of creatures known as Sages. Their existence, arguably, predates humanity. We have seen gods, we speak to them often. I am one, partly. And we have fought them. Even defeated what you would call gods. You tell me very little that is new, Tabris. I ask, of the countless manifestations of life we have encountered thus far, are the true beings of light and shadow too formidable? Do they, or you for that matter, hold some unstoppable power that --

Enough, Dyami. " Syrus had done the unthinkable in interrupting the Son of God, and even in a manner that could be described as harsh. And yet, while he had become more and more unsettled as Amethyst and Tabris talked at him, at Syrus' whim, Dyami silenced himself, and fluttered a few feet lower than before, still angry, and now pouting. Syrus turned his attentions to Tabris, his mind racing with the many illogical notions that had just been brought up in his house. " Forgive my new urgency in this matter, but short of what they are, where they're from, and what they want of us...let us get back to the point. They seek to cause us harm, you seem to have a solution. And I have ties with a being that lives on the Other Side that can control like-creatures as your 'Shades.' If he would be of any use, if summoning him here could in any way help us, let me know, and it will be so. If not, please continue with what you would have me do about these intruders, and what exactly it is that you can do. "

"Well, considering your tactics--which, yes, it would work--" Tabris mentioned the possibility of using light to lure shades away from innocent people, "I would venture to say that anything adding onto the total number of defenders would be a worthwhile investment, yes."

You'd just better hope that they aren't too shade-like.

Though, that really wasn't the major issue. The real issue was that they wanted a demonstration of Tabris's "power," which really wasn't an issue as much as it was an inconvenience. He really didn't want to, personally, but was still prepared for such a thing. Many had asked for such demonstrations, and Tabris had never personally provided. He didn't need to, in the end. Overexerting himself wasn't necessary.

Someone else could do that.

Tabris held up on finger, a means of suggesting to those in the room that he'd only be a moment. While looking to the floor, the albino turned, his profile facing Syrus and the others. He took a moment of just standing there before he stepped forward; all a ruse, though. He could have done it at any time. There truly was no need to "prepare" or anything along those lines . . . not that they would know of this. The extent of Tabris's personal abilities was unnecessary information; he was not going to be doing any fighting.

As the albino's feet carried his body inches from his previous position, they'd find a bizarre image: a remnant. An outline, like a brightly lit ivory chalk line hung in the air, perfectly two-dimensional, invisible if looking at it from the side. Wind could not move it, though; no amount of air current could move it, nor any amount of force. It was like concrete in the air . . .

Suddenly, the outline possessed red. Where an eye should be, at the profile of the face, a red hue began to glimmer. It filled in only the tiniest of fractions, while white washed over the outline, filling in the gaps--

And the Albino continued to walk. Every few steps, there was a new outline of Tabris, standing in place of where the outline once was. Each took upon them the same effect: staying in place, perfectly two dimensional, before allowing the redness of an eye take shape, followed soon after by a whitewash amongst the gaps in space. By the time Tabris had crossed to the other side of the room, he had left three outlines, each still posed exactly as the Albino had been when the outline was created.

--the outlines walked.

"You see, a conscious and powerful shade is untouchable in the dark; that is simply their domain," Tabris narrated, "And a powerful lumen is untouchable in the light. That is not the primary difference, though! The true tactical difference between us . . ."

They put one foot in front of the other, and one by one, followed Tabris in single file. Each step brought forth a new change within them. They became more three dimensional, and within five steps, looked nothing like Tabris. The outlines shaped into different forms, shorter, taller, wider--one inhuman in shape. It was the first--the initial outline brought forth by Tabris, which had sunk closer to the floor, with bent arms that inverted towards the ground, back lifted and elongated, tailbone breaking and extending--tail swaying with each step, scales attacking the untainted ivory. Its head dipped lower, close to the ground, while its midsection continue to grow. A horn grew from its skull, and as the details of the beast became clearer, so did the reality that it had only one eye, focused right in the center of its face. It had no nose, no mouth . . .

Detail was added to their forms within those seconds--a tall, wide male beside of the beast. He was similar to Tabris in an expression of human form, but it was an optional opinion, really. Unlike Tabris, he wore a black dress shirt and black slacks, and his skin was of a vastly different texture. While still albino in appearance, as they all appeared to be, he had cracks running throughout his skin, across his well developed muscles like breaks in rocks, giving him the appearance of a living statue. He had wild hair of a natural gray color, a developed brow, cheekbones, and chin, but lengthy sideburns kept him from looking too intimidating.

The third and final addition to the room was shorter than Tabris by a few inches. Despite his albinism--his powder white skin and crimson eyes--he had the appearance of a dead man. Dark circles under his eyes and blood vessels close to his cheeks suggested sleeplessness and coagulation. Bushy dark hair covered his head and shielded his face for the most part, and a long, button down white coat, almost form fitting, covered a majority of his body, keeping his deadened appearance from view, with what seemed to be a pair of dark pants and boots underneath. It did not, however, cover his hands, which had visible signs of postmortem development: blood vessels close to the surface of the skin, scattered about like pink spiderwebs all over his body.

". . . is . . . that we're . . . conscious . . ." the third continued from where Tabris left off, his tone with feeling, slow, drawn out, and possessing pauses between almost every word.

". . . 'gardless o'who we are . . ." --the second added, his voice gruff and heavily accented.

". . . ahr whacht we maigt beh," concluded the first, his voice like that of a monster mimicking human speech, barely discernible from growls to the untrained ear.

Tabris, the fourth individual amongst this group, stood at the far right of them. "Shades will grow out of a human being's shadow, or appear from nowhere in the dark. Light is our domain. Where there is no absence, we can fill any space, and move almost anywhere we wish."

Though, there was much, much more to it than that. Tabris was not going to personally demonstrate any form of "power," but in moments, there was a good chance that any one of his "companions" would. First, though, it felt right that they were introduced.

"Allow me to introduce three of my brethren," Tabris recounted their names from right to left, starting with the one that seemed like a moving corpse, "Roaeh, Tarreun, and Graashmihg. Three very powerful lumen."

So flattering.

"So . . . flattering," remarked Roaeh.

Certainly glad we're appreciated.

"Gotta say--I'm glad we're 'preciated," said Tarreun, the larger man.

. . .

Graashmihg simply growled. "Haaaghrrrag . . ."

Amethyst looked up when Syrus spoke pretty groughly towards Dyami, and arched a brow over her right eye for a moment. Shaking her head did she walk forward in a slow stride towards the chair beside him, and stopped for a moment to gather the divine lad up into her arms. She looked towards a chair that rested in a corner, and gave a slight jerk of her head to summon it acrossed the room to her side. It moved without a sound on the marble floor to halt beside the throne were Amethyst had been sitting, and she smiles at Dyami when placing him down in the chair at her side.

Turning suddenly around when she gets an errie feeling in the room, and mouth almost drops in suprise at the sudden appearance of three more guests having missed what Tabris had been doing. Eyes blinked but the shock wore off after a moment does she grace them with one of her famous smiles," Welcome to Algeroth gentlemen." her voice musical when sliding from her lips. Amethyst took her sit once more beside Syrus as her mind linked with Dyami's," Now now don't pout, and let it get to you. When we are done here we will go see if cook has your favorite desserts around still." her voice always calming to the mind. Eyes shifted towards Syrus as she would remain silent now allowing him to take control.

Syrus tilted his head to the side, watching the lengthy transformation. All Lumen appeared to be albino, and the humanoid creatures of shadow were paler then the Algerothorian moon. Living in Algeroth, he could not imagine how both sides could stand to be apart from the sun, it being an important source of power for the Phoenicians. All the same, the light show was not incredibly impressive, and when it was over, Syrus' expression remained unchanged. He nodded at each of the beings, and at that moment, a hole seemed to be ripped open in the brightly lit throne room, a portal of blackest night. From it, stepped a man, cloaked in an ornate black robe, covered in chains. A cowl drew over the man's face, showing only his jaw, and the hair that spilled out of the hood, barely tamed. For those who did not know his name, it would be instantly imprinted in their minds, the second he stepped into the room. Talis Rai. A man once known as Alistair, a respected member of society, the leader of the Metsuke, and a descendant of the Sage Baptiste.

He was an anomaly. A descendant of the Light which went up against Gods themselves, and a legacy of protection, the aural shields that, through generations, have saved millions of lives. Then he died, and became...something else. He was Talis Rai, a minion of Sobiadin, and his Organization. A being of darkness, able to summon like-beings. He had been on what seemed like a lifetime of missions, that ended up with the restoration of his memory, and the resurfacing in his loyalty to Syrus, the God-King. Without any prompting, seemingly, Talis knew what it was he was called for. The portal behind him, before squeezing shut, let loose 3 large floating skeletal monsters, cloaked and carrying scythes. They were the Grim, low-level Sleiden enforcers. There were two smaller, and one incredibly large version of them. They groaned and hissed, getting their bearings, until their hollow eyes moved to Tabris, and his companions. Instantly, they sprang forth, only to slam into an invisible barrier, which brightened and cracked slightly, as they attempted to slaughter the light in them. Around them had appeared a square cage of aural shielding, projected by Talis, as demonstrated by his hand, open, and pointed toward them.

Syrus looked at them, only briefly, and then to Tabris once more. " These are one incarnation of the beings of shadow that I have seen, that tend to plague the outer reaches of my country. Talis is not capable of speaking to betray his Superior, this much I know, but he has given me vital information about the creatures under his direct command. They aren't the most intelligent creatures, primal in nature when on this realm, but they are efficient at killing, and seem to be working to harvest mortals. What they gain from it, and why they do it, are unknown to me. But I believe that this is at least closely related to the threat we are speaking of. "

New arrivals--they were regarded with a look of curiosity from Tabris, who still observed with a smile, but more of a mixture of joyful curiosity than anything else. A gate opened up in the throne room; for someone to have such access, they certainly had to be extremely important to the kingdom. No king in his right mind would have trusted someone with such access otherwise; risk of assassination, blackmail, and extortion would have been too great. Seeings how this did not prompt Syrus or Dyami to prepare to fend off some sort of invader, Tabris and the others saw no threat. Tarreun even had a positive reaction: whistling from a semi-high pitch to a low pitch, impressed by the entrance.

Both the man that accompanied the "creatures" and the creatures themselves were matters of interest, but such was an issue to be attended to in the future. Perhaps an offhanded question, an inquiry through some means, of the nature of the mysterious individual--something to wait for a later date, nonetheless.

"Aha~" Tabris cooed pleasantly, "Those creatures. They're not Shades, per se--close, that I must admit, but I also must admit that I personally know little about them. I've only heard of them."

And while Tabris knew little about them, there was one amongst them that could claim such knowledge. Nonetheless, the very fact that Tabris knew of those creatures was a fact worthy of interest: the Lumen may have had contacts and information vastly superior than originally assumed.

"It's interesting, though--I have never actually encountered them face to face, but . . . if I remember correctly, Roaeh has."

Indeed.


It was a recollection--a memory, a recall of a past event, days ago, weeks ago, months ago--years or more. Time was unimportant, inappropriate, unnecessary--superfluous to the mind of Roaeh. His was a dark vision, devoid of hindsight and foresight, existing only in the current, but that bleak, empty mind was not a walking contradiction to those he associated with--the Lumen, who Tabris claimed to be the light, the counter-existence of Shades. Roaeh did not see darkness; he saw Void. Not shadows, but emptiness.

Beneath the gentle waves, Roaeh opened his eyes, staring up at the sun gleaming at high noon, shimmering its reflection throughout the calm water. Tranquil, even with the presence of another. There was no feeling, no sound, no smell, no taste-- no heartbeat pounding in his skull. There was no current, nothing to drag him along or sway his body's state one way or the other. He was in perfectly stagnant state, immobile, requiring nothing more than his body to simply exist, and his eyes to gaze endless at the hazy blue sky. It was perfection for him, the only place where a man such as he could call home. Decency was optional, feeling was optional, thought was optional, moral was optional, existence was fleeting-- necessary, yet given little attention.

It was only when a bird passed his vision, drifting from the canopies, or gliding ever southward in the fall panic, that Roaeh's "attention" was ever diverted. Each caught the glossed over eyes of the thoughtless being, forcing his attention to return to himself, temporarily making him remember who and where he was--but the lucidity of forced amnesia, of nihilist mental shutdown and the blank stare through the soul of a hollow reality could return as quickly as that bird could glide beyond his limited, straightforward field of vision.

But when a foreigner encroached upon his empty stare and stagnated just as he, Roaeh felt the uncomfortable dissonance of his negative existence--the permanent remembrance that he was truly there, and that eyes not of his own were present--eyes locked upon him. It was in the corner of his eyes, given no attention, but acknowledged as an itch--one that had to be given attention, but his unwillingness to do so worked hard to triumph over the willingness to scratch it, and in the end, Roaeh found himself lifting his hand and scratching his cheek with his thinly bit fingernails, rubbing the tips of his fingers across his cheekbone.

This returned him to reality, forcing him to blink in reluctance, and finally breath out for what felt like the first time in hours-- days-- weeks-- months-- years-- how long had he been there? That must have been the creature's inquiry as it stared from the lakeside, watching from beneath the cowl of its hood Roaeh's naked form, perfectly still in the midst of the water, never dragged up by oxygen in his lungs, never dragged down by buoyancy in his body, and only subtly drifting in the minimal current.

Returned to forceful acknowledgment of a non-linear reality, Roaeh swayed his arms before himself, drifting up, and kicking to push himself to the surface. Like a newborn child birthed into the world, he struggled to pull himself out, dragging himself to shore, reaching with every ounce of strength in his body to grasp the towel set by his discarded clothing. Existence was exhaustion. Panting with every passing second, Roaeh sat upon the grass littering the lakeside, towel draped around his waist. Veins ran up his gaunt body like spiderwebs, flowing across every individually defined rib and focusing around the muscles in his chest, swimming up his sternum, dancing across his shoulders, and falling down his biceps in scattered success. Every muscle, tensed and built despite the small structure of his body, throbbed with each of Roaeh's gasps.

With shaky, hesitant motions, he lifted his hands to his face, pushing aside the dark bangs that stuck to his face and clung to his eyes. Roaeh's haze covered eyes, with speckles of pink fragmented across his irises, gazed across the small body of water which he called home for a time he could not even begin to recall, meeting eyes of which he could not perceive, but knew only by the feeling of the gaze: it was as if that creature was touching him, physically searching for some sign of feeling or thought--something behind which a human heart beat, and spent its entire being molesting his soul for that feeling with nothing more but its eyes.

And it found nothing.


"They . . . are not-- shades," Roaeh explained, the inflections in his voice being almost random, with seemingly sporadic emphasis on words that required no such stress, ". . . they . . . are creatures tied to . . . the heart-- not the . . . soul. They are . . . creatures that take emotion . . . and feeling . . . and thought. They . . . are not-- fear."

Roaeh lifted his right hand, his motions fluid despite the difficulty experienced in his memories. It was placed over his heart symbolically, followed shortly thereafter by lifting that same hand up to his forehead, placing the tips of index and middle fingers upon his powder white skin. The heart and the mind, connected as they were, functioned independently for most, but never truly deviated from their collective paths: to feel fear was to know fear, a symbiotic relationship between the mind and the heart.

Defining what a base being truly feared was a difficult, testy process; and though his actions were minimal, they served their purpose, pointing out that which he spent little time defining.

". . . fear is . . . what is unknown," Roaeh continued, ". . . emotion is known-- people . . . feel emotion, and see . . . people without . . . they know . . . what it is to feel nothing. That is not-- fear. Fear . . . is nothing. --humans . . . fear what is unknown-- what can . . . not be seen . . . or understood. They cannot see . . . in the dark-- they cannot hear it, smell . . . it-- taste, touch -- it is a mystery. That is . . . human-- fear. That is where shades . . . are born. That is where Lumen . . . are conceived."

Cryptic words filled Syrus' mind, though the distinction made was clear, and appreciated. He gave Roaeh a nod, conveying his thanks, and acknowledging what seemed to be considerable effort to suppress something unpleasant perhaps tied to his recollection of the accursed things. There was no tragedy however, it seemed, no sorrow, or loss. Simply unpleasantness, like a bad taste left in one's mouth. So the creatures were different in a few important ways, though they were both residing in the same place, and inflicted the same pain, regardless of their motivations, or anatomical and aural differences. Syrus, whom had been formulating a plan based on his previous interaction with the Sleiden was reset. He knew, now, very little about them. Being strong with the Light, he would be sought, and hated by the enemy. And he knew of them, after distinguishing them from Sleiden, from the most recent war, the siege of Castle Warheight. They had been present there, and while they had not targeted him, it was obvious they were not on any of the mortals' sides that day, they simply had their goal, and went for it, ignoring Syrus' forces altogether, for whatever reason.

But now there were coming, now they were coming and all Syrus could think to due was draw them to him. He blocked out Amethyst's mind, even Dyami's, with great concentration, as he considered that he might have to sacrifice himself, in the manner the first Warheight did, to turn back what was possibly a limitless well of dark creatures. It would not be like even the worst of the wars Algeroth had seen. The enemy was unknown, mysterious, and greater in number than any opposing force, ever. Not to mention there would be no preparation on the day of the battle. There would be no long march through Darkwood to exhaust the enemy, as usual. The reports of Shade attacks were that, they could appear on top of their target, whenever they chose. Syrus chose his words carefully, and assailed his guests with a new series of questions.

" From what you have said, even if in the most base ways, you and the creatures are similar. You say you are their weakness, as nothing else can be. So are they yours? Regardless of what it is you can do to stop them...what right do I have to ask you to risk your existence to save us? Or is that not your intention? Obviously you knew they would be coming, or you would not be here...would you seek to turn this city into a battleground between your kind and theirs? Is there no way to take the melee to them? "

( OOC Note- I know this is out of order, but I don't know when I will have internet access again till mine is set up in my new place. I am going to go ahead and post )

Amethyst felt the break in her mind from Syrus, and her eyes shifted from their guests to settle on Syrus with a fire in their depths to show that she was angered with him for drawing back. She didn't speak but reached into his mind with a hard thrust of ice that would blaze through his body through the mind link," Don't you ever block me out again Syrus." her angry tone would echo his mind making him realize that while he was gone she had gone stronger in her telepathic strength. Ame had easy worked past the block he had placed on his mind without him detecting her workings. The only evidence that she had been doing something was the first time she had looked at him with the fire in the depths of her eyes.

A smile played on her mind when she walked back to his side, and instead of setting down on the throne at his side does she plop instead right down on his lap. Sitting there now as she looks once more at their guests does she settle one leg over the other and rest her hands on the top of her knees," Dyami come take my sit. I will sit here for the moment." she continued to grin not caring at the moment if this angered Syrus or not for he had angered her with the withdrawl he tried to attempt. What would it take to make him realize she would not be blocked from what could possible happen at least not this time or any in the future for she would stand at his side. Amethyst would now just be an observer again, and watch their guests, and her love enless other wise instructed to make an opinion.

"Eh, you're right," the largest of the albinos--Tarreun--stated.

All eyes were on him--from the albinos' side, at least--as he stepped forward. His hands, quite possibly twice the size of a grown man's head, were lifted in order to show his knuckles to the king, his soon to be wife, and the child of gods nearby. Rather than pure white, with similar cracks about his fingers and knuckles like the rest of his body--those crooked and broken lines all around his body, making him look more like a living statue than anything else--rather than cracked and chipped white, there was gray. Tarreun's knuckles were gray, and noticeably a much, much darker than his skin should have been--a perfect state between black and white.

"I hate fightin' shades, 'cause they always leave scars on me. See? It's a pain in the ass havin' to fight with weapons. Hate it, y'know?" Tarreun backed up shortly thereafter.

Tabris, rather than comment further on the subject matter of shades as their weakness, and vice versa, opted to focus on the subject of why--or, rather, if they were planning anything in particular, mainly something regarding bringing a feud like this to the streets of Algeroth.

"We don't intend to fight in your streets, don't worry," Tabris held his hand up, speaking reassuringly, "Think of us more like . . . allies. Allies who are willing to take suggestions. In any case! That is the business venture I had come to introduce. In exchange for our support, we only request that you're willing to return the favor in some way, be it physically, economically, geographically, anything along the lines of what you are able to provide. Truthfully, we're not in any particular need at the moment--but in the future, if we were . . ."

As Amethyst came flooding back into Syrus' mind, her mind would be filled with the howling of an ancient language. Chanting would flow through both their minds, as images of Sage Warheight being sacrificed to unleash a divine power against a great evil. Slowly replacing the somber face of Sage Warheight would be that of Syrus, dying, as a torrent of energy passed through his being. The great shadowy evil to which it was aimed slowly split and came at him in several billion different tangents, each seeking to devour the light in him, to extinguish him, to end him. As the power spilled out of him, and across the enemies, they began to disappear, as Syrus did. He was visualizing his death, and now Amethyst, unknowingly, would be subjected to that.

Trying his best to ignore, for now, what he knew he must do, Syrus continued with the negotiation. " Our finances, needless to say, are under a bit of a strain right now, as are our resources. We can try to spare what you ask now, or, you can tell us what you need, when you need it, and I will do my best to provide it. You mentioned geographical resources, however, and I am curious to know...what exactly is it you mean by that? You want territory? And if so, I must ask what it is you would plan to do with land here, after which I can decide whether or not to relinquish such an asset. " A normal mortal would be screaming in agony at the images and voices which plagued Syrus' consciousness. The steps to, and releasing of an ancient power, a power sealed away after a single use, after it's creation, was locked away in Syrus' own bloodline. Unsealing it would not be difficult, he already had many of the components that would be needed for the ritual, however, to fuel the power through Syrus as a catalyst...each of the Sages, or one of their descendants, would have to be present, and willing to comply with such a suicidal act.

"A place to stay, if necessary," replied Tabris.

"Parhagps avehgn foohad . . ." Graashmihg, in his obscure, far from human voice, growled lowly. His voice may have been nothing more than a series of growls that consistently seemed malicious, and would have likely had townsfolk cowering from him in fear of being devoured alive, he meant no harm. Really.

Though it was unlikely that they were going to require any sort of shelter--what, with such an ability as Tabris presented, where they spawned from the light, much like shades spawning from the dark--it was still nice to have the opportunity. Excepting many of the devastated nations of the world, they had been provided the chance for support, be it with shelter, food, money, or raw physical force. Were they to declare themselves part of a nation of likewise individuals, such a kingdom would have broken every record regarding total allies in the world.

Unfortunately, time was of great consequence, and Tabris had many other places to be. As much as he enjoyed conversation--and he truly did--it was imperative, to him, that they make short of their discussion in the very near future, lest another kingdom lose out on a similar opportunity.

"So, should we declare this a successful venture?" asked Tabris as he stepped forward, standing closer to the king than the other albinos.

Grief gripped at Amethyst at the sudden onslaught of the memory or future predition that Syrus was seeing in his mind, and her body stiffened as the only evidence that she has seen what was in her beloveds mind. All knowledge of their guests other then Dyami flooded from her mind, and all she could live at the moment was the loss she was feeling from the sight in Syrus's mind. Eyes were fighting to let forth the tears that plagued behind her vision, and into Dyami's mind she would speak in a soft tone," Child of the gods I wish to speak with you later away from Syrus. I must discuss something that plagues my heart, and see if there is any way around this." she knew if Syrus was to sacrifies himself so would she follow him into the afterworld.

She finally stood from Syrus's lap when she turned to look at him with a look only he would reconize that she was in agony, and wished his presence later to discuss what she had seen. Amethyst wouldn't go far from the throne room so she could hear what was being said, and yet out of the sight of those in the room as the tears began to dance down her pale cheeks. Hands gripped the wood railing before her, and begin to tighten down as it would begin to crack under the pressure. As it broke not feeling the pain as the wood tore into her flesh causing crimson to stain the wood for she was lost in the knowledge that she would be lossing her Syrus again, and it looked for good this next time.

Syrus had underestimated Amethyst's ability to probe his mind once more, and, not being able to keep her out for long, she was subjected to every bit of terror that was flowing through Syrus' mind, though his expression remained unchanged. He clung to Ame as she pulled away, still hearing every word of Tabris. He let loose with an audible sigh, and turned back, his head slightly below where he could see the creatures of Light. " Very well, normally I would argue and try to get more information than what has been shared. However, I must attend to this matter, it appears I've let on something I shouldn't have. She can read my mind, you know? For future contact, and negotiation, you need only think of my or Talis' name while in this realm, and you will have me. As for residence in the city, before arrangements can be made, I will have a room prepared for you here, inside the walls. You will be under close supervision, understandably, during a probationary period. However, you will be allowed to roam free, and your room stocked with provisions and any equipment you may need. If you grow hungry, or thirst, ask a servant to prepare any meal, and to bring it to my attention, and it will be taken care of. Again, I apologize, but I must go, Talis will see you out. You will find that crossing realms is quite difficult against the current of the Deep Magic, here. I would ask that you at least walk out before using any sort of transportation magic. Good day. "

And Syrus would stand and leave, disappearing behind a tapestry, leaving Talis with an fuming Dyami, and a frighteningly calm Talis.

And so humanity, facing a threat they cannot comprehend: the darkness--

"Do not worry, it's not magic," Tabris lifted his hand, shaking his head. "Just as shades who crawl from shadows, Lumen who crawl through light is far from magic--it's nature."

Tabris regarded the king with a smile once more. The meeting was over between them, which was fine. He had much to do, anyways--other nations to visit, other world leaders to meet with and discuss similar deals. They had as much of a shortage on resources as shades; there was no such thing as over-extending their "forces."

"I hope we meet again someday," said Tabris joyfully while the king was leaving.

Indeed, it was not a form of magic that brought about the adolescent's disappearance; he had simply vanished once the eyes upon him had blinked in unison, leaving behind Tarruen, Graashmihg, and Roaeh--who didn't seem to notice the disappearance of their compatriot whatsoever. The three had no intentions of leaving the country, though; unlike Tabris, they didn't feel it necessary to move across several places, not if they had the opportunity to stay in one place. Roaeh was the most extreme of such a case, as he'd have rather lived in a nihilistic beneath lake water than be here, or anywhere else in which he had to acknowledge existence. There was one place he wanted to be, and every else was altogether . . . there. There, when he shouldn't have been amongst it.

"Afta you," Tarruen motioned for Dyami and Talis to lead the way out--preferably to some place they could stay for several evening on end. Once the cloaked man and the child of gods were leading them, the three remaining albinos followed closely behind.

--turns to an equal threat which they understand even less: the light . . .