The Crossroads of Destiny

[Mav]

The night around the ivory guardian was a black as the cosmos above, as quiet as the emptiness of an assassin’s soul. Any sign of life was truly void in such an awful place. No Lera would dream to make this land their own. For at first glance the terra offered no sustenance. Not a drop of water could be found, not even the sweet nectar of dew that would cling to the leaves of trees was present. But then why had the ivory warrior traveled to such a decrepit place? Why would any Varg seek out this small patch of land that held no life, no promise for future? It was because a rumor had recently spread across the plains of the Varg. Rumor of a magical wolf who could see with eyes unclouded by the fabric of time, rumors of a great seer came to the ivory auds of the former Dragga. But logic had always been the code of the guardian. What could one such as him hope to find with a fortune teller?

For the past several suns, many dreams had haunted the ivory Koranian. They all seemed to start, when the bond between himself and the tora-ge of Koran Exerci, began to develop a closeness that slowly intertwined the two northern Vargs. Dreams that consisted of his diseased ebon mate Keechak, and the events that led up to her tragic demise at the hands of those two legged heartless creatures. It seemed though, as much as the logic side of Maverick’s brain denied such concepts, that the ebon fae in his dream always tried to convey some kind of message to him. But the dream would always end abruptly, and the significance of that message would be lost into the fog that was those painful memories. His very reason for seeking out this seer conflicted with everything that Maverick had ever been taught. Yet the ivory wolf could no longer go on with this plague that haunted his subconscious.

Maverick arrived at the entrance of the Vale of Shadows. His golden orbs were greeted with the sight of two tall trees that lay parallel with one another, and on their branches hung the corpses of flying scavengers. Their fate forever sealed and lost to the imagination of any passerby. However such sights paid no mind to the courage of the lead warrior and guardian of Koran. His heart molded into that of endless courage, he remained undaunted and trekked on past the entrance with strong ivory paws. There he followed a path that would take the ivory male down a hill and into the valley of the Vale. His golden orbs let of a majestic radiance that penetrated the darkness of the valley, as they searched for the source of the rumors. Could this seer hold the keys that Maverick was searching for? Or were his initial presumptions of fortune telling accurate, and it was all a bunch of nonsense. All the answers would come in time.

/OOC: Excellent, first post in the Vale. Sweetness./

[Cinder]

Pitch blackness, cold late winter wind. The skeletal fingers of dead trees reached across the starry sky, intertwining with one another to block out the light of the moon that hung high in the heavens. The Vale was shrouded in shadows, and any traveler would only have the long, winding path to guide them to the home of the Fortune Teller. If they were brave or desperate enough to seek her out, that is.

Cinder yawned hugely, bowing her torso and raising her rump to stretch the stiffness from her muscles. She felt the bones in her shoulders grate with a sickening crack, and, satisfied, she lifted her body off the pine bough nest in which she slept. The Fortune Teller leapt down from the plateau where her nest lay. Someone was coming.

She padded to the still, moon flooded pool below her sleeping place, and lapped up the icy water. As the water rippled, she stared at her awful reflection. The right half of her face was nothing but a mask of frightening scar tissue, jeweled with a blazing yellow eye. The other half of her face was gray, and a dark amethyst eye stared out of it. Her fur was ruffled- unkempt, but not matted- dark grey and streaked with ashen black. It clung to her sickeningly thin bodice like dew on moss. Cinder growled at herself, about to insult her own face, when the water stilled and began to swirl into a deep vortex. The image of a powerful he-varg melted into the water before her. His coat was brilliantly white against the dark path he traveled, and it rippled over strong muscles. He was a warrior.

His name came to her- Maverick. Former Dragga of Frecne and currently of Koran. Cinder’s tail twitched. He was her first visitor. This Maverick was indeed brave to be the first to venture into the vale. Since Mayan had vanished, the visitors had ceased. Now that Cinder had returned, brimming with her adoptive mother’s power, rumors must be spreading of her. Now it was her turn to answer questions the free wolves may have. She lowered her ugly head, burdened. “Oh Mayan,” she whispered, “why can’t you be with me?”

The Koran Guardian was nearing her dwelling. Come on now, Cinder, Lamia purred from within her. Let’s see your new powers in action. The demonic varg’s voice held no aggression, which was odd. The varg in her head, surprisingly, sounded awed. She padded to the caves entrance, her ashy pelt blending in with the shadows. She licked her laws as the white warrior entered the clearing. She remained silent, letting him survey his surroundings for a time. Then, she spoke, her voice audible but her body hidden.

“Welcome,” she growled in her broken, raspy voice, “Maverick of Frecne and Koran.”

[Mav]

Golden orbs violated the thick darkness that hung over the Vale. All was quiet, as if noise itself was not permitted entrance in such a place. Yet the former Dragga could hear his own heart beat within his well muscled chest. His auds rose and tried to catch any sound that could perhaps bring a clue as to the location of this seer. Were the rumors untrue after all? Who in the right mind would want to live in such a place? The logic that Maverick had grown accustomed to believing in was slowly kicking in as he continued to search the deaths of the Vale for this fortune teller. Fear played no part in any decision made by the lead warrior. If Maverick were to leave, it would simply be because no one was here to greet him, and the entire journey would have been nothing but a grand waste of time. But just then, a voice greeted the guardian. Raspy lyrics filled his ivory auds and scratched the sensitive ears of the Koranian. There was no doubt in Maverick’s mind; this voice belonged to the one he searched for, the seer of the Vale of Shadows.

She sounded old to the ivory guardian, judging by the make of the voice. His golden orbs could not locate Cinder’s form hidden among the vale that darkened the terra. How was it possible that this stranger whom he had never met knew his name and title? Perhaps there were more to the rumors then just simple word of maw. Silence settled in once again, and the ivory lead warrior of Koran grew anxious. His instincts and senses on high alert, he didn’t like not knowing where the voice had originated from. Surely it came from the seer, who could very well perhaps see exactly where Maverick stood. Yet his courage remained fearless, unimpeded, a he stood proudly for Cinder as the unmovable warrior that feared nothing. “Seer!” Maverick yelled into the darkness, his voice deep and proud and his form strong like a stone that could never be budged. “Show yourself! I seek your knowledge, for I have questions that perhaps only you can answer!”

//OOC: Rotten post, I’m rather museless.//

[Cinder]

//no worries. i have writier's block right now so.. bleh.//

Maverick's booming voice commanded that she came out of the shadows. Cinder licked her lips thoughtfully, not answering, watching him as he straightened his stance. He was a brave one- she did not need the aid of her craft to see that, but would this experience brush away the logic that ruled his judgment, and open him to all that was possible?

Cinder chuckled hoarsely. "Very well," she growled hauntingly, answering his question.

At first, her form seemed nothing more than a furry shape writhing within the shadows of the cave as she forced herself to her paws. Then her eyes appeared, one yellow the other purple, shining at they refracted the light from outside. The Seer stepped out from the darkness, her skeletal body and scarred face swathed in flickering shadows. Would he be surprised to see that she was barely two winter winter’s old, when her voice held such roughness?

The Seer padded up to Maverick, studying his reaction. “You’re the first to seek me out,” she whispered. “Rumors of the power are circling again, I see.” Cinder paused, then dipped her head respectfully.

“I am Cinder,” she introduced herself, “adoptive daughter of Mayan, the former Fortune Teller. I am at your service, Maverick.”