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Alone We May...

Lazuli73

Lazuli73

Well-Known Member
Slicer
The light of the mid autumn full moon shone through the evergreen bows of the northern forest. The first cold chill of the coming winter blew through the skinny trees, making a select few drop dead needles to be replace with fresh ones.

Through the icy night air a howl echoed through the skies. A wolf was calling to its sister pack, for they had split to hunt more ground. On the receiving end of the beta's call was the alpha, a huge male wolf with a silky brown coat. Sending one in returned he gazed down at his fellow wolves, his electric yellow eyes piercing through a coming fog.

Bounding off from a stone perch he led his pack through the wood to their usual hunting grounds. They leaped over quick-paced streams of mountain water, dashed through tall ferns that tickled their fur with midnight dew. Their range was in a large, treeless meadow with a wide, shallow, slow-moving river ideal for prey to graze about in.

Prowling the edges of the pine boarder the alpha searched the meadow for any unsuspecting prey. Something caused him to freeze in his tracks, halting the pack behind him. He raised his head high, taking in the downwind air. An unpleasant smell flowed from the north, across the river. It made the whole forest reek of human.

Cautiously the pack hurried out into the meadow to find the source of the stench. They remained low, trying to keep concealed in the tall grass in fear of a hunting party. Crossing a narrow bend in the river they fallowed the alpha. They came uncomfortably close to an old, unused trading road before determining the origin of the smell.

The broken remains of a ransacked wagon was left to rot in the bottom of a ravine. The bodies of a pair of humans, presumably a husband and wife, lay dead near the wreck, bloody and littered with stab wounds. The wolves would've dismissed the wagon for the unfortunate result of bandits on an unused road, which is was, if they hadn't had heard the cry.

The cold, hungry whine of a human infant came from a nearby tree. A female wolf, with silver and pale blue fur, approached the sound to find a frigid baby in a basket carelessly tossed from the wagon. The child was barely a few days old, shivering as she froze to death in the night.

The pale skin of this human was stark white from the cold, her human digits turning blue from exposure. All she had on was a heavy wool diaper reeking of a foul stench that made the wolf's nose wrinkle. Even the fluffy black down of hair on her head had been sprinkled with frost.

The baby must have kicked off its blanket during its parent's murder as the green wool sheet was sprawled around her. Using her nose the wolf flicked the corners of the blanket back onto the infant. Pity seized her thoughts, she wanted to settle down and warm this frozen child like she was a pup in their pack with her mother merely absent.

Peering over her shoulder the alpha male snarled at the orphan. "Leave it be, Luna," he growled.

"But she'll die Timber," Luna pleaded. Wolves were traditionally named after the conditions that surrounded them during birth. Luna was born under the basking light of a full moon. Timber beneath a fallen tree.

"Then she will be with her kin once more."

Timber was obviously referring to the baby's dead parents, but Luna didn't care. He turned, his hulking, muscular body headed south towards the meadow once more. "It is not the way of the wolf to let another die alone and afraid," she said in a enforcing tone. She stood before Timber as he tried to flee, blocking his path.

Luna, in her small, slender frame, would be no match for Timber, but she didn't care. What she lacked in muscle she more then made up for in speed. If he attacked her she could easily dash away, taking the infant with her. She would never be able to return to the pack is she did so, but she never would, not with a pup of her own back at the den.

Timber looked at Luna's challenge with astonishment. Being a lead hunter made her only a tad higher on the pecking order then the yearling she was. She had the speed and stamina to keep pace with swift prey, nipping at their heels to bring it down so the others could make a kill.

He noticed she always had a sense of sympathy for her prey, always targeting a well stag instead of the slow and weak. She claimed that the strong could fight for their lives, the weak already battling a war they were in need of winning.

Despite her abilities she was still to low to order him around, but she was a vital asset that would result in far fewer successful hunts for his pack. Luna glared at him, her emerald green eyes scowling with mutiny. Turning around he gazed back at the human orphan in the basket. He knew it wouldn't live very long, in her care or alone, so what was the harm of it all?

Returning to Luna he gave her a patronizing look. "You may care for the human child if you wish, but she is your burden and yours alone."

Luna's ears perked up in surprise. Immediately she rounded Timber to check on the infant's life. Dismissing Luna form the hunt she picked up the woven handles of the basket in her slender snout and raced away into the coming mist, returning to the den.

Sliding into the den early Amber, Luna's mother, was startled at the sight of her daughter. Settling in the far corner of the den, where it was warmest, Luna tried to hush the human child. Taking the corners of the blanket in her mouth Luna lifted the baby out of the basket and into the nestled curve of her laying position.

Wrapping her tightly with her legs Luna tried to share her body heat with the child, just hoping she would survive the night. Amber gazed down at the odd sight. "Where did you get this human from?" she inquired. Luna explained the wagon at the bottom of the ravine, filling Amber with shared sympathy for the orphan.

Attempting to cover the shivering child with the blanket she was left with, Amber noticed something was stitched into the cloth. Embroidered along the seam was a word written in some human language, but part of it was torn off. Being unable to read any human language she dismissed it and Luna gave her a wolf name.

The frost in her hair still lingered, giving Luna inspiration for her name. "Frost," she bestowed as she cleaned her new child. While Luna bathed Frost her own pup, Lightning, roused from his sleep and joined his mother. Forcing his way through he ignored his new sister and began to nurse.

Trying to encourage Frost to nurse she gently flipped her over. She refused at first, but hunger took over her instincts. Lightning nurse feverishly for about twenty minutes before dozing off, but Frost did so for nearly double that time.

When her belly was full for the first time since her birth mother's death she nodded off, wrapped in the safety of her adoptive mother. If Frost survived, Luna swore she would love her like she was her own.
 
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The false summer heat of late summer melted any remaining patches of snow, making the forest steam with warmth. Water dripped from the thawed evergreen bows, making the ground soft and moist. New growth erupted from the earth, making the usually silent taiga explode with life. Blankets of soft moss coated bare rocks, beds of thick grass danced in the meadow, vines sprouted from the soil and begin to climb up mature trees.

A rabbit raced along a beaten, well-worn path, weaving through the forest as it ran for its life. Young wolves, last year's litter, pursued after one of many hunting lessons. Among them was a human youth, her silky black hair drifting in curtains as the wake of wind she created carried it along. With quick, calculated strides she was able to manage her way to the front of the pack.

Barely a stride behind her was a hefty yearling nearly double her weight. Not wanting to be second to none he used his muscular jaws to grip her hand as it swung back, throwing her from the chase. His raw, primal strength sent her tumbling down into a stream, where he was able to feast on new adrenaline and kill the rabbit.

A mature wolf, Luna, trailed behind as she was the mentor to this litter. Though she was merely the sprinter of any hunting party, she also bared the patience and will necessary to teach now potential game-winners. After she praised the young alpha's kill and scolded him for taking down a fellow pack member she worried for the human girl, who was left behind in the stream. Sliding down the mud bank Luna attended to her daughter.

"Are you alright, Frost?" she asked. Licking her wrist Luna tried to wash away the blood from the bite mark.

"I think so," she mumbled. Frost held her head in despair, but its source did not spring from her failure to kill the rabbit, or even her injury.

"What's wrong?" asked Luna.

"Why did I have to wait so long to learn how to hunt?" The question was simple for Luna to answer, but difficult to hear. Being a human child she matured a lot slower then any wolf. She could barely walk when she turned one year old, which was the usual time the pups would begin their schooling. Only a select few would be able to join the adults on real hunts, since having a wolf with weak skills would only lessen the odds of a successful hunt.

Frost still carried a feeling of failure with her. As much as she loved her mother and younger siblings, she always felt like an outcast among allies. Even the alpha, Timber, swore she wouldn't have survived the night Luna adopted her, or at least shouldn't have. During her eleven years she never made a kill, never raised a litter, never did anything...

It pained Luna to see her daughter feel as if she were a burden. You may care for the human child if you wish, but she is your burden and yours alone, she could almost hear Timber say. Nuzzling Frost to her feet Luna urged her along. "Come, I want to show you something." After dismissing the other yearlings to the den Luna led Frost through the forest.

They wandered about for some time, passed the meadow and the trading trail, far farther then Frost had ever been from the den. She asked her mother several times where they were going, but all Luna said was somewhere special. By the time they arrived the sun was low in the western skies; they maybe had about three hours of daylight left.

Rounding a rock ridge Frost was faced with the most spectacular sight of her life. A golden shield of light, stretched as far as they eye could see, cut through the landscape. Gazing up the shimmering light formed a large, cascading dome. Touching the surface sent a ripple across the face, taking several moments to bounce back like a belated echo.

Noticing the tip of her finger passed through she slowly pushed her entire hand into the enormous dome. Immediately the bite mark on her hand, which had thankfully stopped bleeding, began to rapidly heal. Scared she drew her hand pack, holding it close to her chest, as if protecting it from an unknown threat. "What is this place?" she asked.

"I'm unsure," said Luna. "It appeared shortly after I took you in, for some reason cutting off this portion of the forest from the rest."

Luna tried to explain to Frost what she knew about the shield. It seemed that animals and humans could pass through it unharmed, but only animals could return to the wild side of the forest. "We called it the Sanctuary of Healing. We take wolves whose injuries are too grave to heal on their own here." Frost though back to her brother, Lightning, who challenged a rival wolf to a duel. She was certain he would die, but he was taken somewhere and returned uninjured, as if he was never in a fight at all.

"Why are we here?" Frost said. She now sat in the grass, stroking her mother's soft silver fur.

"I've ventured far into this sanctuary. I know other humans live here. As hard as it would be to see you go, I want you to be happy, and if that means being with your own kind, then at the least you should know they're here."

Returning to the den Frost rolled about as she slept alone, shivering in the sudden chill that had come in the night. Stashed away in a hallowed out cluster of roots was the baby blanket Frost was found in. Taking it she shook out the dirt and dead leaves, then wrapped herself in it. The blanket filled her with warmth, drawing out all cold she had previously felt.

She ran her fingers along the green dyed wool, thinking of her parents and what they could have been like. Every time she slept with the blanket Frost always found herself running her fingers over the embroidered human word stitched into the wool, wondering what it mean. Was it her name? Her mother's name? Something that meant she was loved? She would never know.

Gazing out the den opening she watched the moon trace across the sky, wondering if the other humans out there saw the same. Rising from her resting spot she crawled out of the den and raced through the woods, using the very same path her mother had used to find the shield. For hours Frost just paced beside it, deciding on whether or not she should pass through it.

If she did she wouldn't be able to return to her pack, but she would also be with humans. What if they were hostile and didn't accept her? Panicked and scared and unsure what to do she turned to run back to the safety of the den, welcomed or not. About to run she came face to face with her brother Lightning, whose deep grey coat almost perfectly concealed him against a rock face, if it wasn't for his vibrant lime eyes.

"Lightning! What are you doing here?" she scolded in a hushed whisper.

"There's no one around, you don't have to whisper," he joked.

When Frost left the den Lightning had awoken and fallowed her to the shield. He had brought along with him the green blanket Frost was found in, filling her with gratefulness to have Lightning in her life. "You know mom and I will always love you, right?" he said. At first Frost was baffled by this, but she understood what he meant. If he fallowed her, he surely saw and heard her debating with herself. Lunging forward Frost wrapped her arms around her brother, hugging him and sobbing into his fur.

"But I won't be able to come back," she gasped out.

"The humans that live inside are very powerful, I'm sure one would at least try to allow you to return," he reassured. Frost wanted to be with others like her, humans, but she was so afraid of the unknown it nearly crippled her in fear. Lightning tried to convince her to go, since he wanted that for her as well, but she was too terrified of what could be.

When he offered to go with her, she settled down a little. By then the sun had risen and the sun's warmth had snuffed out the cold night. By noon they had managed to kill a sheep and ate a late breakfast. Mulling over her options Frost decided to cross over the shield, taking the risk that would no doubt change her life. For better or worse, only time would tell.

Passing through the curtain of gold Frost and Lightning felt a shower of healing overcome them, even repairing old scars from years past. Turning around Frost collapsed to her knees in despair, for the golden shield has disappeared, sealing her inside the dome forever.
 
Tears streamed down Frost's face as her fists pounded against the invisible wall. She could not see what she was feeling, she only knew that she was trapped within its boarders and there was no escape. Through the unseen force she could see her old, familiar home beyond.

Lightning attempted to pull her away from the golden sheild he could clearly see himself, forcing her to accept what has been done. When they were a few feet away from the sheild Frost wrapped her arms around Lightning's muscular body. She weeped into his stone grey fur until her eyes burned and her throat was tender.

Using his knowledge of this land Lightning guided her deeper into the woods, and closer to a human settlement. He refrained from telling Frost where they where headed due to her likelihood of fleeing upon seeing the man-made structures. After several days they trekked through the remaining taiga forest and into an open mountain range.

Very few trees were present in this new region. Those that took root were isolated and scattered. The land itself ranged from sheer mountains to vast plains to flat plateaus. Waterfalls from unseen springs cascaded down the tall cliffs. Mountain rivers collected at the base of the mountains, making frigid lakes with beaches made of smooth pebbles instead of sand.

They spent several days wandering the new terrain, killing sheep for their meals and sleeping in shallow, east-facing caves. While walking along one of the pebble beaches they could hear a odd thwacking sound emitting from an area beyond a rock ridge.

Cautiously Lightning and Frost moved towards the foreign sound. Peering over the sharp rock formation they watched an odd sight act out before them. A human, which appeared to be male, stood before a tree. His darkly tanned skin and black hair glistened with sweat as he repeated the action of smacking a tree with a long tool. The tool looked like a long stick with a chipped stone lashed at the end.

His thick eyebrows were knit into concentration, forest green eyes fixed on the large gash in the tree. Raising the tool high he drove the stone head deep into the wood, making it splinter with pain. When the tree finally toppled over he brushed away any saw dust from his dark wool tunic and leather pants before splitting the trunk into more manageable planks.

Frost watched in fascination as this fellow human performed a task she never imaged doing herself. Why on earth would he require neatly cut portions of what used to be a beautiful tree? Adjusting her position her foot slipped and sent a river of gravel tumbling down the hillside. The man's attention darted towards her and Lightning, his leafy eyes meeting her royal purple ones.

Expecting him to attack or at least demand to know something, he surprises her by drawing his sword and fleeing. At first Frost remained still, but Lightning charismatically encouraged her to fallow him with hope of finding more humans. Trailing behind they only got short glimpses of him as he raced around rock formations.

Slipping inbetween two mountain bases the man once again disappeard from her sight. Before she slipped though the narrow gorge she noticed that they have rounded the lake as she can see the stump on the other side. Dancing though the tight rock split she appeard on the other side breathless. Not from her pursuit or even a lack on air, but from the exhilarating sight before her.

A human settlement of daunting size sat nestled between two mountains. Short wooden walls encased the intricately built structures. Between two watch towers was an iron gate that appeared to be liftable using a wench and iron chains.

The man that Frost and Lightning were chasing used a key to activate some sort of powered mechanism to open the gates. Making a grinding noise the gates began to rise, but the man removed his key and skidded under, as if he was afraid of someone getting inside.

Briefly Lightning considerd fleeing back into the wilds as he had never seen this human settlement before and feared that these humans may be hostile. Just as he motions to turn the wenches creaked and groaned again, lifting the gate once more. The gate raised high enough to allow a single figure to exit the settlement without bending down for clearance.

Approaching the pair the mans face is kind and inviting, his features young and smooth. His long chocolate brown locks drape down the sides of his face, bouncing with each step. He wears a long leather tunic with a denim undershirt and coffee slacks. Dangling from his leather belt was a sword, decorated with impossibly fine detail, made of pure gold. Through his thick beard at smile forms on his lips. His calm demeanour almost suggested he was expecting her...

Seeing the sword dangling from his belt Lightning's muscles stiffened and he bared his teeth. The man seemed unfazed and waved his hand in front of the wolf's eyes. Hypnotized Lightning rolled over and flopped onto his back, presenting his belly. Giving it a quick rub the man stood again and stared into Frost's lost and curious eyes.

"Welcome to Asgard, wanderer."
 
They stood silently for who knows how long, his words lingering in the air. The only clue to the passage of time was the setting of the distant sun, filling the sky with pale yellows and subdued oranges. A cold breeze chilled Frost to her bones, making her shiver in the falling light of dusk.

The man, removing his cloak, wrapped it around her and guided her into the fair city. Lightning, who was prepared to flee, fallowed with no caution, for he did not eye him as a threat. Leaving the groaning gates in their wake the man guided her to a small house made of bits of stone and planks of wood.

Setting her by the fire he left momentarily, returning with a mountain of cooked food. Never before eating a hot meal Frost indulged herself with braised beef and mushroom stew. By far her favorite portion was the roasted carrots and potatoes, which was something she never knew she could eat.

Before this day all she ever had eaten was meat so fresh one had to make sure it didn't run away partway though the meal. And that was if they had made a kill. After Luna adopted her their pack had nearly tripled in size, making food uncomfortably scarce. Most days they found themselves dining on rotting flesh from wandering corpses that burned in the sunlight.

The fire was also a comforting sensation. Having only seen fire when a lightning bolt struck a tree, Frost had never experienced the act of containing it for warmth. The entire house glowed with heat, giving her a sensation she never felt before. Lightning lay next to her, helping himself to heaps of braised beef and gnawing on stewed bones.

When she finished her meal, which she ate with her hands, the man kneeled before her and tried to clean her with a rag, but she refused to be handled in such a way. Tossing the soiled cloth into the fire Frost watched it catch and burn until nothing but cinders mingling with the other ashes remained.

As her eyes drank in every detail of burning the fabric the man had began speaking to her, or at least that what she assumed what he was doing. Turning to him she watches his lips move, but his speech hit her ears as garbled gibberish. She stared at him blankily, the same way she had when he spoke to her on the mountain.

Realizing that she had never known human speech he gave a forgiving smile and reached for his golden blade. Lightning's careful eyes watched the man as he raised it from its shealth, holding the beautiful weapon horizontal at neck height. Lightning bared his teeth, making a low growl in warning.

The man gave none of his attention to the wolf, brining the blade to Frost's throat. Fear began to radiate through her, a fear that he may hurt her somehow. When the blade touched her fair skin the gold began to glow like the sun. A spot on her throat began to glow as well, changing something within her. Her vocal cords.

"A gift from our gods," he said.

Frost was shocked to hear such words, to understand their meaning. Too surprised to speak herself she grabbed the green woollen blanket from her birth and pulled it up to her chin. A gift? Why? How? From who? What was a god and why did they bestow this upon her?

Taking her hands the man called himself Cryptite, and briefly explained who he was. He claimed to be some sort of warden, whatever that was, and that she was in safe hands here. He stared at her, waiting for her to speak, ask him something, say anything. Frost simply stared at him blankly, making him question if she had received his gift at all.

Perhaps she was still in shock from instantly learning a whole new language, so he attempted to ask her a simple question. "Do you have a name?"

Frost opened her mouth, but nothing came out. A name? All her life she was referred to as Frost, never questioning it. Suddenly she felt the entire weight of the day fall onto she young shoulders, dragging her down in a deep desire for sleep. At this she did manage to speak for the first time, mumbling one word. "Sleep."

Releived that his gift had been received Cryptite allowed her to lay by the fire, soaking in the warmth and curl up with her wolf friend. Taking the green knit blanket he draped it over the pair, seeing the embroidered word stiched in the seam. Lifting the corner he had to squint his eyes to read it in the poor light.

Part of the word was torn off, but he could make out the first few letters. "Jedoi," he mumbled. A good a name as any for a new Lokan, if she was willing to stay within the Artifact's protective hold, unlike so many others who choose a life far beyond its immortal grasp.

With one last glance he caught her eye, which were still watching the dancing flames flicker away under the stone mantle. Crouching down he asked if her name was Jedoi, and when she answered him with a confused look he showed her the embroidery.

For the first time in her life the random stitches made sense. A word, five letters, that created something of meaning. But what did it mean? "My mother found the blanket with me when she brought me home," she whispered. For some strange reason it seemed odd to refer to Luna as her mother, when she clearly wasn't.

"Is it your name?" Cryptite asked.

No, it wasn't. Her name was Frost, or at least that what she knew herself to be. Maybe this was her real name, given to her by her real mother. It seemed to be fitting to give herself a new name, since her previous one tied her to a life where she was unhappy and unloved by most. A time she would prefer to forget, a time she felt like an unwanted burden.

Rubbing her fingers along the discoloured, once yellow thread, she decided then and their to leave her old life behind, to accept the new one before her and face the risks. Reaching up she wrapped her thin arms around Cryptite, dragging him down into a unpleasant hunch.

"It is now," she smiled with misty eyes.
 
For the first few days of her life in Asgard Jedoi was tossed about by the veteran members, teaching her what it meant to be human. After they finally managed to bathe her for the first time she refused to be clothed, but after a few particularly cold nights she quickly adopted the philosophy. But by far the biggest miracle was her eagerness to learn about theses people who had taken her in.

Dressing herself for the first time she wrestled herself into a pair of purple pants, a green shirt, and a grey vest. Lightning stayed by her side, watching all the change unfold over his little sister, always an arms length away, ready to protect her from danger. He was even fitted with a red collar, which he hated and scratched at constantly.

A quick knock bounced off the door, becoming a brief warning before Cryptite let himself inside. Sitting by the fire Jedoi stood to greet him with a loving hug, their embrace cut off short when she realized he brought someone with him. He appeared to be a simple peasant, wearing white button shirt and rust pants, as well as a open leather vest. Maybe "simple peasant" was a poor choice of words.

He bared the soft pink sink, wrinkled nose, and flop ears of a pig. Standing on his hind legs like a person, but with the striking features of a hog. Jedoi looked puzzled at him for a moment, waiting for someone to address this, but no one does. Cryptite introduces him as Artagan Antioch, Asgard's resident scholar and lore enthusiast.

"He volunteered to mentor you, take you under his wing." With that Cryptite left them alone, resulting in Jedoi wondering what he meant by "under his wing" since she didn't see any on Artagan. Still learning the basics of language she didn't understand the meaning behind a metaphor.

With a wave of his hoof he motioned for Jedoi to fallow him. He led her though Asgard, passing by its many exquisite buildings. Along the way she caught sight of the man who was chopping trees in the wilds, the one with the forest green eyes. Jedoi found out the day before that his name was Godemox, and as they passed him by she gave him a weak smile and a small wave.

Arriving at their destination they stood in front of the Asgard Library, the grand structure towering like a man-made mountain bursting with knowledge. Artagan weaved his way though the maze of bookshelves, moving deeper into the library. Having Jedoi wait outside of a door he entered, leaving her alone.

Her curiosity got the better of her, causing her to pull random books from their shelves. This portion of the library was rarely visited by patrons, and was hardly cleaned, making heaps of dust collect over the years. Gripping the spine of a large volume she dragged off the high shelf, making others tumble down in a avalanche of albums.

Plumes of dust rose high into the air, filling Jedoi's sinuses and causing a sneezing fit. The door that Artagan disappeared behind flew open, his arms full of blank manuscripts, feather quills, and ink wells. Setting down his supplies he sighed loudly and began to re-shelve the books, placing back in a meticulous order after looking at their spines.

Once Jedoi herself was dust-free they continued walking deeper into the library until they faced a second door. Opening it Artagan gestured for her to enter, closing the door behind them. Lighting a candle he had her sit on a three-legged at a writing desk, then placed a piece of parchment on the desk and a freshly dipped quill between her fingers.

Commanding her to write down what she knew about Loka's history he crossed his arms and waited. Jedoi simplly stared at the paper, not knowing anything about this place. Well, nothing worthy of a history book that could one day be shelved in this grand library like the others. Gazing up at Artagan she gave him a desperate and solemn look, only to have him raise an eyebrow in suspicion.

Using carefully chosen words Artagan asked if she knew anything at all about Loka's history, which resulted in what he already assumed. He would have to build from scratch, educate her with no knowledge going in. Excusing himself he returned nearly an hour later with what seemed half the library's worth in texts.

Dropping them to the floor he carefully selected on, the very volume Jedoi had reached for before, and placed it on the table. A new plume of dust exploded on impact, rising into the air and finding its way into their lungs, causing a new fit of coughing. Lifting the ornate cover Artagan leafed through the pages, selecting a chapter about knives.

Standing beside him Jedoi drank in his every word as he read aloud, periodically answering her questions, and filling her young ears with knowledge. As the hours ticked by they thumbed through all the books, regaling all of Loka's history up till that very day. Previous worlds, knives, Preksak, slicers. This world was far more fascinating then Jedoi could even imagine or bear.

They remained in the study well into the night as Jedoi now became curious about Artagan's personal life within the Artfact's protective glow. He recounted his life, practically day by day, from first arriving in this land to making the blood oath to Antioch to moving to Asgard. Mesmerized by his tellings Jedoi ignored his somewhat biased view on certain people, particularly and blue-eyed enderman who had saved her and Lightning from a creeper.

Once he finsihed his literal life story Artagan escorted Jedoi back to her home, where he ordered her to get some rest. But she couldn't rest, not now. Her mind was a-buzz with knowledge, young and old. The only reason she managed to sleep at all was from sheer fatigue of the day.
 
Today seemed almost perfect for a walk though Asgard; the sun was bright, the sky was blue, and there were only six clouds floating by. Walking on the cobblestone streets Jedoi, Godemox, and Cryptite enjoyed each other's company, laughing along to jokes and stories of old.

Seeing a chicken perched high on a windowsill they assumed it must have escaped its coop. Climbing the building by leaping from balconies and window shutters Jedoi and Godemox were about to reach the willful hen when a flaming arrow flew past their heads, roasting the chicken where it lay.

In the streets below, clad in enchanted diamond armour, stood three of Loka's greatest raiders. Psy, Zor, and Theif Lord stood with bows armed, ready to let the arrows fly. Releasing their shots they soared throug the air, lodging themselves in the wood behind Jedoi as she leaped to the balcony to her right, balancing on a flower pot.

Avenging the chicken Godemox reached around and pulled a garden hoe made of diamond from a shealth. Leaping off the support strut he dangled from he swung the hoe through the air, releasing a barrage of flaming redstone dusts. Fallowing Godemox in his crusade Jedoi leaped off of her flower pot and duel-wielded enchanted diamond swords of her own.

Togther they slaughtered the so called "Greatest Raiders of Loka" like lambs in a butchery. Once their corpses despawned in a puff of rainbow smoke Jedoi and Godemox combed through their loot, finding only the rarest thing in the world. Bedrock.

Worried that other raiders had infultrated the city Jedoi placed her fingers in her mouth and whistled loudly, summoning two flying ocelots. Mounting one each she and Godemox flew around Asgard, scanning the ground for other threats.

They spotted below two figures, both clad in green. On closer inspection one was a woman, Freyjia, a legendary goddess, and Preksak, the bane of every Lokan's life. It was puzzling to see Preksak in green robes when he was usually seen in blue. Landing in the stone streets they observed them, acting very strangely...

They appeared to be punching blocks like their fists were made of iron, breaking them and replacing them exactly were they had lay. Suddenly their bodies began to convulse, the air around them becoming strange and wavy. Splitting into two duplicates the originals continued their baffling task of rebuilding Asgard as their clones grinned evilly.

The clones attacked them using shovels made out of wood, the commotion somehow called all of Loka to the scene. Armed with bows they began to shoot Preksak, but not Freyjia. Flying in Cryptite reached down for his belt where his golden sword usually rested in its shealth.

Pulling it from his shealth, a cloud of steam puffed along with it, blocking the glorious weapon from view. When the cloud cleared the sword was revealed to be a burrito. Refried beans and chicken. Flaming tacos shot from the burrito sword, making melted cheese and bean paste drip out of the corn tortilla.

Remounting their flying ocelots Jedoi and Godemox flew about, sending a shower of flaming redstone dust clumps. When one of them accidentally hit Freyjai, who no one was attacking, everyone turned on Psy since they ausmmed he would pull a cheap shot on the goddess.

Distracted by this Artagan saw a small window of oppertunitay and locked Preksak in a trance of reading using an enchanted book. Enraged that they were not chosen to fall under the books enticing allur Leasuar and Lazuli became insane with desire and began throwing shards of glass everywhere, littering Asagrd with sharp fragments.

Having a sudden craving for burritos Cesar, a member of Asgard, tried to take the burrito sword from Cryptite. The act of pulling at the sword ripped it in two, covering the town block in blue paint. Merging with the blue paint everyone appeared identical, sitting in circles, singing and sharing cakes. Somehow Shilo Moonflair evaded being transformed into a blue being and tried to tack the flying ocelots to the ground using scotch tape.

Suddenly Jedoi felt the motion of being shaked, her mind being pulled from this bizarre reality. She awoke in her bed, bathed in sweat and covered in purple sores. She felt unbelievably nauseous and the room was spinning. Feeling someone dabbing her forehead with a cold rag, Jedoi looked up to see Artagan in a yellow hazmat suit.

Though the thick glass he said "Welcome back, nice to see your fever finally broke." Jedoi looked puzzled at him for a moment, unsure what had just happened, her last sane memory being her in a field of tainted grass that had creeped in from the east,

He explained her condition in one quick, direct sentence. "Jedoi, you contracted the Blight."
 
It was at least a month before Jedoi was deemed well enough to leave the quarantine of her home. During her quarantine she learned that Lightning had also contracted the Blight as well, but didn't survive the infection. Laying in a steaming tub of bathwater Jedoi mourned her loss brother as she slowly bathed herself for the first time in weeks, as she was too weak till not. She had to run fresh water twice as flaking skin from scabs and general grime had turned the soapy bath into a scum puddle.

Jedoi gazed out the window to see the hills covered in the purple fungus, animals decaying where they dropped. After surviving her affliction she became immune to the Blight's disease, which was considered beneficial if the world was unfortunate enough to encounter a similar outbreak. Standing in front of a mirror Jedoi dressed herself, counting the circular scars that dotted her fair skin. She was told in time they would fade, which was uplifting.

She was instructed by Cryptite to journey to the Spawn Tower with all her most valued possessions as she was placing them in a multidimensional beacon to prepare for a world transfer through a knife. The beacon acted like a time capsule, preserving the items until it could be activated in the next land. The beacon here had to be powered as well, but with all the riches collecting dust in vaults, that task was easy enough to accomplish.

The real challenge was finding the beacon in the first place, never mind activating it. The islands that floated around the spire became portals, taking them to other dimensions. One of the portals whisked them away to some sort of laboratory where hundreds of clones of the legendary figure Preksak roamed about.

Once they returned to their tainted world there was a low point until the beacon was fully powered. During that time Jedoi spent very little time in Asgard, she merely wandered around the spire waiting for the next world. The weight of the whole event had fallen onto her, the denial that this was actually happening was lifted once she witnesses Cryptite's bleak expression while addressing Loka.

Unsure what would happen in this new world Jedoi found herself alone and without allies. It was made clear that Asgard would no longer be an option for her refuge, since it took severe damaged from the Blight. Sitting on a wooden bench she picked at a melon slice she retrieved from the patch that grew at the base of the spire, wallowing in grief and uncertainty.

Hearing a whoosh Jedoi noticed that someone had arrived in the spire. Standing atop the teleportation platform was a tall, fair skinned young woman, maybe a few years older then she. She had her long blond hair weaved into a braid and carried a bow. Her most striking feature were those vibrant purple eyes.

Jedoi recognized her as Lazuli Avalos, a member of Tyndall. Climbing the spiral staircase she vanished onto the roof of the structure to deposit something in the beacon, barely taking notice of Jedoi. Although she did not know her personally they had shared a laugh or two, making her appearance at least noteworthy.

Leaping off the staircase Jedoi expected Lazuli to vanish into the town portal, but instead she approached her. Their interaction was brief, but well-enough. It was a request, to become her ally in the new world and create a town of their own. Unsure of this Jedoi didn't provide an answer at first, since she barely knew her.

Passing though the town portal to her own dwelling Jedoi sought out Artagan, finding him in the library. As if he would be anywhere else. Recalling her encounter with Lazuli Artagan advised her that she was someone of great potential, that the request was a great opportunity for Jedoi. He also ensured her that he would be able to help her no matter the circumstance, since he was already promised to another town.

Meeting up with Lazuli once more she accepted the request so long as a few other soon-to-be former members of Asgard could join as well. Agreeing on these terms Lazuli instructed Jedoi and her other allies to mete her near at the bottom of the spire on the day of the transfer, giving them time to collect and prepare for the ordeal.

Maybe this world transfer wouldn't entail demise for Jedoi after all. Well, at least she wouldn't be alone. While Lazuli described her intentions in the new world to Jedoi she couldn't help but stare deeply into Lazuli's eyes, recognizing something within them. She wasn't sure what, but she knew it was something deep, something nurturing, something loving.

Something motherly.
 
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